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IN THE FOOTSTEPS ,, 

OF I'l^ 

WASHINGTON 



POPE'S CREEK TO PRINCETON 



BY 

ALBERT H. HEUSSER 

LECTURER. DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION, NEW YORK CITY 
MEMBER NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY'. 

AUTHOR OF 

"THE LAND OF THE PROPHETS" 
• 'HOMES AND HAUNTS OF THE INDIANS" 

"THE HEART OF THE ETERNAL CITY" ' 
ETC. ETC. 



SUBSCRIBERS' EDITION 

PRIVATELY PRINTED 
AT 

334-336 Godwin Street, 
PATERSON, NEW JERSEY 



COPYRIGHT, 1921 

I'.y 

ALBERT H. HEUSSER 



.5 



m 24 19? I 



FOREWORD. 



1^ EVER has the influence of George Washington 
been so powerful a factor in the life of America 
as it is to-day, for the reason that the tensions of 
the past seven years have drawn us very close to the 
heart of our Revolutionary Leader, and given us a re- 
newed respect for his noble character and old-fashioned 
ivisdoin. 

To attempt another "Life of Washington," after 
the classic pages of Irving, the scholarly reviews of Mr. 
Wilson or the practical applications of Senator Lodge, 
would be highly presumptuous. Yet we cannot know 
Washington too well, and I am persuaded that, by fol- 
lowing in his footsteps and drawing inspiration from, 
an intimate knowledge of the storied regions made 
memorable by his presence and (^ivities, we may pos- 
sess ourselves of an elevating And invigorating friend- 
ship with the truly great man who led us to a place 
among the nations. * 

An appreciative knowledge of George Washing- 
ton cannot but make us more worthy of our national 
heritage in these tijues of re-adjustment, when each — 
for himself — must interpret the meaning of "Ameri- 
canism." 



A. H. H. 



Beaver Lake, N. J. 
April 5th, 1921 



^ffecttonati'Iy ©ebtcaicb 
to tl|c ^ctttory of nty 3fatl]cr 

1847 - 1919 



CONTENTS 



Page 
I THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 17 

*\VaKhin!;ton's Bdi/hotid IJome, 'Pine (irorc/ oppositf Fredfrirksburg. 

II IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 77 

*Thf Fort Duqucfitx' Block House. 

III IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 147 

*2'hi' Old Elm at Camhr\d<je, Mass. 

IV THE FIGHTING RETREAT 203 

*Old Suyar House Prison and on' of it.s ancient iron-barred windows; 
New York City. 

V TRENTON AND PRINCETON 271 

*Mc Conkey's Tavern, Washington's Crossing, iV . J. 



''Chapter Heading Decorations from pen sketches by the author. 



PRESS OF 

BRAEN - HEUSSER 

PATERSON. N. J. 



INDEX 



A. 

ACQUACKANONK, N. J. (Passaic), 256, 

259, 261 
ADAMS, SAMUEL 147, 166, 167. 170, 173 

JOHN 199, 210, 222 

AftASSIZ, LOUIS 182 

ALBEE, BURTON H.. Quoted 255 

ALLEGHENY MOUNTANS 54, 68, 87, 90 
100, 111. 119. 128, 131 

Kiver 94, 95, 131 

County, Pa l'^9 

ALLEN, GEN. ETHAN 1.^5 

ALEXANDKIA, VA 3U, 37. 86. 104 

to 106, 123, 134 

Masonic Lodge at 42 

ALPINE. N. J 250, 251 

Cornwallis' Headquarters 

■ALIQUIPPA'S ROCK', McKcesport 



Pa. 
133 

AMERICA as a world power 250 

•AMERICANISM" ...- ,231 2 

Aruerii'M's future as seen by Washington 

249. 250 

ANTIETAM BATTLEFIELD .... 110. 263 
Army of American Congress 160, 185, 207, 
253, 256 
(Washington Commander-in-Chief) 160, 

184 
{ine private soldier in) 189 to 196, 223 
jMt.NOLD. GEN. BENEDICT .... 185, 186 

ASHBY'S GAP. Va 84 

'ATLANTIC FLEET, of U. S. NAVY 249 
AUDUBON, J. J. Naturalist 6i> 

B. 

BARBADOS 69 to 75, 138 

BARCLAY, THOMAS 269 

BARRETT, COL. of Mass. Militia 176 

BARTLETT, DR. (N. H. Signer of 'Decla- 
ration') 202 

BASKING RIDGE, N. J 269, 301-2 

Aycd Oak at 302-3 

BEAVER, PA 95, 96 

BEDFORD, PA 129 

BEDFORD. MASS 171 

BELVOIR, Manor of 45, 46, 67, 97 137 
BEMIS HEIGHTS, (Battle of) .... 190 
BENNETT, JAMES GORDON 243, 246 
BENNINGTON, VT. (Battle at) .... 190 
BERGEN COUNTY N. J. 194, 244, 255 

BERMUD.A 75 

BERNARDSVILLE, N. J 300-301 

BERRYVILLE. VA 67, 84 

BILLERICA, MASS 177 

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES: 

Benjamin Franklin 110-111 

Gnr. William Franklin {of N. J.) 164- 
165 
BIRTHPLACE OF WASHINGTON, 

Pope's Creek 17 to 30 

'BISHOP,' Washington's body servant 123 
BLUE RIDGE MO^UNTAINS 44, 47, 48, 
54. 58. 64, 83 

BOEUF, (Fort) (Pa.) 84, 96 

BOGOTA, Bergen Co. N. J 257 

BOLTON, CHAS. KNOWLES, (His- 
torian) 195 

Book-kee])ing Habit of Washington .... 145 

BOONE. DANIEL 87 

BORDENTOWN, N. J. 161, 269, 271, 279 



BOTETOURT, LORD, (Governor of Vir- 
ginia) » 1, 83 

BOLDIAOT, ELIAS (of N. J.) 280 

BOUQCET, COL. HENRY .... 7 7, 129-131 
BOSTON, Washington at 126, 164, 170, 
185, 196 to 198 

Ma.sfiarre 147, 165 

Tea I'artii 147, 166, 167 

Keroluttonury History 158159164 to 

I'uI'lic Library 165 

<SY((?«' Houne 165-6 

Famuil Hall 167-8, 197 

Christ Chureh 169, 171 

C'o/>/f'.v Hdl 179 

Bitnkir Hill Monument 18(J 

T(jl>o!/raphy of lhO-181 

Di,reh,'st,r Heights 181-196-197 

E radiation of 197 

Common 198 

BOYHOOD OF WASHINGTON, 34 to 44, 

136 
BRADDOCK. GEN. EDWARD 104-5-6-7, 
110, 113, to 123, 129 

Braddoek, Pa 117, 118 

■Braddoeks Road' 90, 101, 111, 114, 

115, 124, 129, 134-146 
Braddoek s Battlefield .... 117, 118, 132 

Braddock's Rdics 122, 123 

BRADFORD, WM., U. S. Atty. General, 

280 
BRETT. H. M. (Historic Painter) .... 195 

BRIDGES CREEK, VA 22-23, 39 

BRIDGETOWN, BARBADOS ... 71 to 74 

BRIERY MOUNTAIN, PA 124 

British -Vrmv as a world-conquering force, 
122 

BROWN, JOHN 109 

BROWNSVILLE. PA 100 

BROOKS PHILLIPS 182 

BRONX RIVER, WESTCHESTER CO., 

N. Y 235-6, 241 

BROWNSBURG, PA 272 

BROOKLYN, N. Y 198-204-213 

Battle of Long Island 214-221 

Prospcet Park 215-216 

iirnrfsend 214 

Flathush Are 215-216 

BUCKSTOWN, PA 129 

BUNKER HILL, Battle of, 177 to 181, 

192 
BURLINGTON, N. J., 162, 163, 164, 269, 
271. 279 to 284 

BURR, AARON 228 to 230, 259 

BURR, DR. AARON (of Princeton).... 295 

C. 

CADWALADER. GEN. JOHN .... 279-282 
CALLAHAN, CHAS. H., quoted .... 97-8 
CAMBRIDGE, MASS. Washington at 181 
to 188 

Vassal-Craiqie House 187-18 S 

The ■Old Elm' 147. 184-5 

Wadsu'orth House 182-184 

CANADIAN CAMPAIGN, 1775 6 .... 186-7 

CARLYLE, MAJ. JOHN 105 

CARLYLE HOUSE. Alexandra, Va. 104- 

5-6 
CARLETON, SIR GUY (British Officer at 

New York) 205 

CARPENTERS' HALL, Philadelphia, 154 
to 158 



II 



INDEX 



CARROLL, CHARLES (Md. Signer of 

'Declaration') 202 

CARY MISS MOLLY (of Williams- 
burg) lo7-138 

CARY, MISS SALLY, (oft Williams- 

burg) t7, 137 

CHAMBiiiRLAIN, MAJOR Virginia Plant- 
er 140 

CHALK HILL, AUeghenys 99 

CHARLES RIV^ER. MASS. ViB, 181, 187 

CHARLOTTESVILLE, VA 59 

CHARLESTOWN, MASS. 169, 178, 180 

CHARLESTON, S. C 198 

CHATHAM, N. J 269 

CHATTERTON'S HILL, (Westchester 

Co. N. Y.) 236-8 

CHERRY RUN 112 

CIRCLEVILLE, PA 116 

CIVIL WAR, references to 49, 64, 109, 

126. 263 
CLEVELAND, GROVER, President of 

U. S 295-6 

COLLINS. ISAAC (Colonial Printer of 

Burinffton) 280 

CLINTON, SIR HENRY 205-209 

CLOSTER, BERGEN CO. N. J 250 

CODRINGTON, GENER.VL 121 

CODRINGTON. COLLEGE, Barbados 74 
COLDSTREAM GUARDS (British) 122 

Colonial Architecture 155-156 

COLONIAL BEACH, VA 19-21 

COLVIN, PATRICK, (Trenton Ferry- 
man) 282 

CONCORD, MASS. 158, 170, 171 173 to 
176 

Battle of 174 to 176, 177 

The 'Old Manse,' 174, 176 

Wright Tavern 176, 177 

Grave of Brtish Soldiers 178 

CONNELSVILLE, PA 89, 93. 94. 114 

CONTINENTAL CONGRESS, (The First 

1774) 153 to 158 

Thr Second, (1775-1776) 158 d scq. 199 
(Washington's relations with) 189-194- 

222 
(Land Grants to Rrroliitionarg sold- 
iers) 194 

COOPER, JAS. PENIMORE 280 

CORNWALLIS, LORD CHAS. 66, 209, 
218 
In New Jersey, 250-252, 258, 267, 282, 
288-289 
Courtship and Marriage of Washing- 
ton 140 142 

CRAIGIE. DR. ANDREW 187 

CRAIK. DR. JAMES 113, 114, 145 

CRAWFORD, COL. WILLIAM, (of Penn- 
sylvania) 145 

CROWN POINT, VT 185 

CUMBERLAND. MD. 86, 88-9, 112, 124 
'Fort Cumberland' 89-9, 100, 108, 114 

126, 127 
'Cumberland Pike' 90 

cusTis, G. w. p .;;;. 29 

Martha. 'The Widow Custis' see Mrs. 
Washington 

Col. Daniel Parke 140-142 

John VDJ 

Martha 140 

D. 

DAGW^ORTHY, CAPTAIN, (British Offi- 
cer) - 126 

"DAUGHTERS OP THE AMERICAN 

REVOLUTION" 248 

DAVIS, RICHARD HARDING 233 

DE BEAUJEU. (French Officer) 118 

DE HEISTER, GEN., ^Hessian Offi- 
cer) 209-217 



DELAW^\RE RlV^ER 162-3 267-268 

11 ashimjtoti's Crossine/ B73-4 

DINWIDDIE, ROBT., Governor of Vir- 
ginia 68, 78, 80, 81, 94, 97, 102, 125 

DOBBS FERRY, N. Y 273, 241 

•DOGUE RUN' at Mt. Vernon .... 31, 45 

Domestic Life of Washington 145 

DUNBAR, COL. THOMAS 113, 119, 124 
DUNMORE, LORD, (Governor of Vir- 
ginia) 148-149-153 

DUNOP. COUNT, (Hessian Officer) 209- 

271-279 
DUQUESNE, FORT 77, 102, 115, 128, 
130, 131, 132, 145 

E. 

EARLY, GEN. JUBAL, references to, 49 

EDMUNDS' SWAMP, PA 129 

Educational Activities of W^ashington .... 81 
Educational Opportunities of Washing- 
ton 42. 297 

ELIZABETH, N. J. 163, 164. 209, 264 
EMERSON, RALPH W^\LDO 174, 176-17/- 

Rev. WiJliam 174 

'EPSEWASSON,' (Mt. Vernon) .... 30 to 
32 33 

ERIE,"'Countv Pa 84 

ERIE Lake 84 

ESSEX COUNTY, N. J 255-264 

P. 

FAIRFAX, ANNE 45 

FAIRFAX, LORD THOMAS 44 48,49, 50, 

54 to 56, 58, 67, 84, 159 
FAIRFAX, COL. W'lLLIAM .... 45-46. 69 

105 
FAIRFAX, GEORGE W. 45-47, 67, 69, 

137 

Mrs. G. W 67 

•FAIRFAX LAND' 57 

FARMINGTON, PA 124 

FAUNTELROY, WM. (Virginia planter), 

138 
Betsy (Early friend of Washington) 

138 

FAUSETT, TOM 118, 121 

FAYETTE COUNTY, PA. 89, £0, 91-99, 

105, 115, 121 

Financial Status of W^ashing^on 142 

FITZGERALD, COL. JOHN (Aide to 

Washington) 287 

FLUSHING. N. Y. (Long Island) .... 222 
FORBES, GEN. JNO., 77, 127 128, 129- 

130-133 

"FORBES ROAD" 128 to 130 

FORMAN. COL. D.VVID 264 

FORT LEE, (N. J. Palisades) 207, 235, 

242-3 250 to 254 

Monument 254 

FORT WASHINGTON N. Y. 212-220 

(See N. Y. City) 241 to 250 
FRANKLIN, BENJAMIN 43, 101, 109, 

110. 181. 199, 210. 222, 228-297 
FRANKLIN, GOV. WILLIAM, (of N. J.) 

162 to 165 

FRANKLIN, P.V 84 

FRAZER'S RUN. PA 117 

FREDERICK. MD 48, 109-10 113 

FREDERICKSBURG, VA. Boyhood "home 

of Washington 17, 18. 33, 37 

Historic References 83 191-2 290 

FREDERICK COUNTY, VA. 134 
FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR: 

Preliminaries 68. 77, 78 

Washington's part in, 83 to 141 

FROSTBURG, MD 90 

FRY, COL. JOSHUA 98 



INDEX 



III 



G. 

GAGE GENERAL, (British Commander 

at Boston) 168, 179 

GARRISON, WM. LLOYD 168 

GATKS, GEN. HORATIO 270 

GENEALOGICAL NOTES, Washington 

family 22 to 25, 28 

General Officers of the Continental Army 
191-2 

GEOLOGY of Luray Cave'-ns 52 

of the Natural Bridge 63 

GEORGE III, King of Great Britain. 59 
Hi« Ktatue in New York City ........ 211 

GILBERT, CASS, Architect 83 

GIST, ClIKISTOPHER 85, 87, 93 

IIi.i plantatiun 102. 113 

'Thomas 146 

'GLADE TRAIL,' (Pa.) 128 

GLOVER, COL. JOHN 233. 274 

GLOVER'S MASSACHUSTETTS REGI- 
MENT 187, 190-191, 220-275 

GOWANUS CREEK, (Brooklyn. N. Y.) 

218 
GRANT, MAJOR, (British Officer, 1758) 
129 

GRANTSVILLE, MD 89 

■GREAT CROSSING'S,' PA 89. 124 

GREAT FALLS. VA 68 

GREAT MEADOWS PA. 99, 101, 114, 

120. 123. 127 
GREENE, GEN. NATH. 198, 216-217, 
226, 233, 235, 242. 244, 248, 252, 
259, 274 

GREENSBURG PA 130 

GREENWAY COURT 46, 54, 55 to 57, 
58, 159 

GROTTOES, VA 50 

GRYMES, LUCY, (Early friend of Wash- 
ington) Ib8 

H. 

HACKENSACK, N. J. 242, 252, 254 to 
260 
R-.vcr, 253. 255, 257, 259 

Where Washington crossed 255 

HACKENSACK, N. J. (Histor.c sites at) 
256 

HADDEN, JAMES quoted 104 

His bust of n ashington 103, 143 

Photographs from Mr. Hadden illustrat- 
ing chaptei II where noted) 

HALE, CAPT. NATHAN 230-232 

'HALF KING' Indian Sachem .... 98-99 

HALIFAX. N. S „ 197, 208 

HAMILTON, ALEXANDER 229, 230, 

265-275 
HANCOCK, JOHN 147, 160, 165. 170, 
173 199 

HANNASTOWN. PA 129-130 

HANOVER COURT HOUSE, VA .... 150 
HARPERS FERRY, W. VA. 84. 107-8-9 
HARRISON, COL. ROBT. H. (Secretary 

to Washington) 233 

HARVARD COLLEGE, Cambridge, Mass. 
81. 129, 182 to 184, 293 

Massachusetts Hall 182-183, 294 

Widener Memorial Library 183 

HAVERSTRAW, N. Y 212 

HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL 174. 177 

HEADLEY, J. T. quoted 142 

HEATH, GEN. WILLIAM 242 

HENRY, PATRICK 149-150-151-153-154- 
159 

HERKIMER, GENERAL 194 

HESSIAN SOLDIERS 258 

At Trenton 275-277 



HEWITT, ERSKINE, (His portrait of 

Washington reproduced) 156 

The Miss< s Sarah C. and Eleanor G. 

(Relics in possession of) 123 

HOLMES, OLIVER WENDELL .... 182 
HOPKINS. STEPHEN (Of Rhode Island) 

147 
HOPKINSON, FRANCIS, of N. J. 161 
HOWE, GEN. WILLIAM (British Offi- 
cer), 177-179-197, 208, 209, 213-219 
222-4, 227, 234, 241, 244, 266, 268 

Admiral Howe .-. 209 

HUDSON RIVER OBSTRUCTIONS 207- 
212-247-8-9 

Defences 214, 244, 248 

Refirrnces to 242, 244, 250, 254 

(King's Ferry) _ 242 

I'alisades 244, 250-2, 254 

HUNKERS, PA 116, 134 

HUNTINGTON, L. I. (N. Y.) 231 



INDEPENDENCE, DECLARATION OF 

158 201-2, 211 
INDEPENDENCE HALL, (Philadelphia) 

158 159, 200 
The Liberty Bell 200 

INDIANS — Archaeological Notes : 

Shell Heaps 20 

Anthro/rohigical Notes: — ■ 49-66 

Highways 90 

Historical Notes 78-9, 99, 112,13 118 
134 

Landmarks 133 

Names 84 

IRVING, WASHINGTON (Quoted). 220 

J. 

JACOB'S CREEK, PA 116 

JAMAICA. N. Y 214-217 

JAMES RIVER, VA 58. 64. 65 

'James River and Kanawha Canal', 64, 65 
JASPER. SERG. (At Charlest:.n, S. C), 

199 
JEFFERSON THOMAS, 43 59, 61, 81, 

199 

JERSEY CITY (Paulus Hook) 222 

JONCAIRE, CAPT. French Officer .... 95 
•JOURNALS' OF WASHINGTON: 

On trip to the Ohio, 97, 98 

Barbados Chronicle . 72 

JUMONVILLE, (French Officer). 98, 99 

100 
JUMONVILLE, PA 119 

K. 

KANAWHA RIVER 87 146 

KEITH, WILLIAM '. 272 

KENTUCKY, References to 37, 90 

KNOWLTON MAJ. THOS 179-226 

KNOX, GENERAL HENRY, 185, 186 

194, 233 

KNOX, P. C. (Sec. of State) 121 

KNYPHAUSEN, (Hessian Commander) 

209-244 



LACOCK PROF. JOHN K.. (quoted), 

129-130-131 
LAFAYETTE. MARQUIS .... 156-178-259 

LAKE CHAMPLAIN 185 

LAKE GEORGE 185 

LA SALLE, (French Explorer) 78 

LATROBE, PA 128 

LAWRENCE CAPT. JAMES 280 



IV 



INDEX 



LAUREL HILLS PA., 91, 99 113, 116, 

124 
LEAR, TOBIAS (Washington's Secre- 
tary) 145 

LE BOii;UP, PA 84 

LEE. HENRY 'Light-Horx ' 138 

Gen. Charles 162-184-198-203-204-206, 

233, 236-242-265-269-o01 

LEONIA (Bergen Co.) K. J 255 

LEXINGTON. MASS. 147, 158, 169 to 

173, 177 

LIGONIER, PA 129-131 

{Fort Ligioncr) 131 

••LIFE-G-UARD" of Wathington 257 

LINCOLN, ABRAHAM 46, 193 

'LITTLE CROSSINGS', MD 89 

LITTLE PERRY N. J 255 256 

LIVINGSTON, WILLIAM Governor of 

N. J.) 164-214 

'LGGSTOWN'. (on the Ohio) 79 95 

LONDON. ENG 97 

LONG ISLAND, N. Y., 198-213-214-215- 

222, 230 

Battle of 214-219 

Rctnat from 220-221 

LONG ISLAND SOUND 205 232-3 

LONG RUN, PA 116 

LONGFliLLOW HENRY W., 169, 182- 

187-188 
LOSSING, DR. BENSON J. (Historian), 

References to 2^8 240 278 

'Love Affairs' of Washington, 'iS. 135 to 

142 
LOWELL. JAMES RUSSELL 182 

LOYALHANNA PA 128" 130 

LURAY. CAVERNS, VA 50 to 53 

LYNCHBURG, VA 64, 66 

M. 

MADISON JAMES, (Pres. of U. b.), 81 
MAETERLINK, MAURICE, References to 

259 
MAGAW COL. (of Penn.) 230 235-241- 

244 
MAM RONECK, CCNN. 235 
MANUFAl TURING IN AMERICAN COL- 
ONIES 190 

MARION, GEN. FRANCIS 191 

MARSHALL, JOHN (Chief Justic? U. S.) 

200 
MASoN GEORGE (of Virginia) 149 
MASONIC PRVTd;RNlTY, The 170 
MATHER, DR INCR.^ASE (Boston Di- 
vine) 169 

MAWHOOD, COL. (Br.ti&h Officer \' 287, 

289 
MAXWELL'S N. J. BRIGADE .... 191 
Mc CONKEYS TAVERN (N J ) 271-4 
282 

McKEESPORT, PA 93 132-133-134 

MEDFORD, MASS 177 

Mental Qualifications of Washington, 40- 

42, 69 

MERCER CAPT. GEORGE 146 

MERCER GEN. HUGH 191. 192,' 290 

At Battle of Prinriton, 286-7 289-290- 

291 

'Mercer Bridge, Princeton Battlefield, 285- 

289 
MIDDLETON. ARTHUR (S. C. Signer cf 
'Declaration') . oq--) 

MIFFLIN. GEN. THOS "..".'.'.'.'.".' 220-282 

MILITARY CAREER OF W\\SHINGTON- 

French War 69 to 141 

lh,e K(vohttion 147 to 304 

MILLSTONE, N. J. 29'^ 

MISSISSIPPI RIVER .... 68, fs; 132 250 



MONMOUTH COUNTY, N. J 264 

MONONGAHELA RIVER 89, 93, 94 100, 

115, 118, 130, 131, 133-146 
MONROE JAMES, (Pres. of U. S.), 22 

81 
MONTGOMERY, GEN. RICHARD .... 186 
•MONTICELLO', Home of Jefferson .... 59 

MOORE, SIR JOHN 120 

Moral .Vttributes of Washington, 40-42 136 
Moral Character of Washington, 136 193- 
4. 304 

MORGAN, GENERAL DANIEL 191 

MORGANTOWN, MD 19 

MORRIS COUNTY, N. J 300-303, 304 

MORRIS. ROBT. (Financier of the Revo- 
lution) 282 

MORRIS, LEWIS (N. Y. Signer of Dec- 
laration) 201 

MORRIS, MAJ. ROBT 139, 140 228 

MORRISTOWN, N. J., 264-267 269. 303 

Wa-ihngton. at 292-299-303 

The Arnold Tart rn 303 

MOSSOM REV. DAVID 142 

MOULTRIE COL. (of S. C.) . . 199 

MOUNT PLEAS.VNT, PA., 115 116, 134, 
146 

MOUNT VERNON its earlv historv, 30 to 
32, 44, 45 75. 76. 137 

....Prior to the Rerolvtion. 106, 126 134 
143-144 

/^f furni.fhirir/x 56 

Its Auricult^iral. DcvelojJtnent 145 

Out builtlin'ifi 31 

MUHLENBURG GEN. PETER ..".'..'"""" 191 

MURRYSVILLE, PA 129 

MAPS:— Illustrating 

Washington's Youthful Haunts 21 

Washington's Expeditions to the Ohio. 85 

N. 

NAPOLEON I of France Ill, 187 

•NATIONAL HIGHWAY (to the West), 

90-115-121 

NATURAL BRIDGE, VA 58 to 64 

Wa.shington's visit to 62-63 

NECESSITY, (Fort), 98, 101 103, 104, 

114 
NELSON, ADMTR \L HORATIO .... 73, 74 
NELSON WILLIAM, (Historian) quoted, 

164 

NEILSON, COL. (of N. J.) 266 

'NEMACOLIN'S PATIT 90 92, 115 116 

124 
NEW.VRK, N. J. Rcvolutionarv historv, 

262 to 264 
'NEW BRIDGE', (North Hackensack) N. 

J 255 

NEW BRUNSWICK. N. J., 265 to 268 

291 
NEW ENGLAND CAMPAIGN. 1775 6, 164 
NEW KENT COUNTY, VA. 140-142 

NEW LONDON, CONN 198 

NEW ROCHELLE N. Y 235 

NEWTON, PA 272 

NEW JERSEY, PROPRIETARY GRANT 

268 
NEW JERSEY, Pre-Revolufionarv his- 
tory i63-4-5 

Wa.fhin.gton's retreat through 222 241 

250, to 270 

NEW YORK CITY, Young Washington 

,. at 139 

Anro! Operations of 1776, 203 204 205 

213-220-1 

Episode of 'Golden Hill' 148 

Preparations for d fence 1776 198 

203, 210-211 



INDEX 



V 



NEW YORK CITY — RiTerside Drive, 225- 
6, 245 249 
Battery Park .... 199, 204. 206, 212 

Governor's Island 204 

Gen. Washinuton at, 205, 213-221 to 
235 

-Vo. 1 Broadwav 205, 206, 213 

Bowling Green 206 211 

Harlem Eeic/hts, 207, 223-6, 241, 242 
to 250 

(Battle of) 224 to 226 

Harlem River 224, 244, 246 

Fort Washin,(/ton 207 212, 220, 225 
235, 242 to 2'50 

Jeffrei/s Hook 247-8 

The l^arrows „ 208 

Old City Hall 208, 231 

Bombardment of 212, 214, 243 

House at No. 7 State Street 212 

East River 217. 220 221-2 

Brooklyn Bridge 221 

'Murray Hill' 222 to 224 

•Greenwich' 222 

Trinity Churchyard 223 

Van Cortlandt Park 203-223 

'Sugar House' Prison 203-223 

British Occupancy .... 224-227-245-268 

Mott's Tavern 224 

Morris House (Jumel Mansion) 224, 
227 to 233-247 

Columbia University 225-6 

Cathedral of St. John the Divine, 225 

Tomb of Gen. Grant 225 

'Hamilton Grange' 229 

Fordham Heights 244 

Kingsbridge .--.... 246 

As seen from N. J. Palisades .... 254 

Historical Society 211 

NIAGARA French post at 78 

NORFOLK, VA 154 

NORTH CASTLE, N. Y 236 242, 269 

NORTH RIVER, VA ." 58 

N. Y. (See Hudson River) 
NORWICH. CONN 198 

O. 

O'DONOVAN, WM. R. (Sculptor) .... 190 
OHIO RIVER, 68, 78 87, 95, 127 131, 
132, 133, 145 

OHIO PYLE, PA 91 121 

O'NEIL, JOHN, (Private soldier under 

Washington) 195 

OPEQUON CREEK VA 49 

ORANGE COUNTY, VA 53 

'ORCHARD CAMP' OF BRADDOCK, 

123 
'ORGANIZED LABOR, Comments re- 
garding 157-8 

ORISKANY. Battle of 194 

OTIS, JAMES 147 

OVERPECK CREEK, N. J 253 

P. 

PAINE, THOMAS 199-225 

PARKER CAPTAIN (of Mass. Militia), 
171 

PATTERSON'S CREEK 112 

PATTERSON, COL. (British Adjutant) 
confers with Washington (1776) 213 
PASSAIC, N. J. (Ancient Acquackarionk) 
256-261 

The Modern City 260-261 

River 259-260-300 

PASSAIC PARK, N. J 261 

PEALE, CHAS WILSON (Artist), 78- 
200 
Rembrandt (Artist) 156 



PEEKSKILL. N. Y 242 

PELHAM BAY. N. Y 234 

PENDLETON, EDMUND (of Virginia) 

159 
PENX, JOHN (N C. Signer of Declara- 
tion) 202 

PENNSYLVANIA, (as a Colony) .... 127-8 

....(Railroad) 128-129 

FKNSION DEPARTMENT (of the U. S.), 

194 
PERCY, EARL (British Officer) .... 217 
Personalitv of Washington, 94, 146, 153 
19o-4 

Apptarance of Washington 146 

PHILADELPHIA, PA., 125, Vz7, 155 to 
160. 272, 282 

Washington at 155-159 

Troop of Light Horse' 276 

■PHILIPSE MANOR', Yonkers, N. Y., 
138-139 

Fridirick 139 

Mary (friend o, Washington), 128-139, 
140, 228 
Physical Qualiflcation.s of Washington, 40- 

42 
'PINE GROVE', on the Rappahannock, 

16, 33, 37 
PITCAIRN, MAJOR, British Officer, 170. 

176 
PITTSBURG, PA.. 77, 93, 94, 95, 129, 
131 to 133, 145.6 

PITT, PORT 132 

PLUCKEMIN, N. J 29,:! 

Political Career of Washington, 134, 135 

POMEROY, GEN. SETH 179 

POOR. GEN. ENOCH 256-258-260 

POPE'S CREEK, MD 20 

POPES CREEK, VA.. Birthplace of Wash- 
ington 17 to 30 

PORT CHESTER. N. Y 239 

PORTER, JEAN STRATTON, Novelist, 87 
POST, JOHN H. of Passaic N. J., 260-1 

POTOMAC RIVER 20. 21, 45, 108 

'Preparation', Washington's habit of, 161 
PRESCOTT, COL. (Am. Rev. Officer), 

178-179-180, 192 
PRINCETON. N. J., 265-267-268-271-282 
290 to 299 

Battle of , 285 to 292 

Stony Brook 285. 289 

Mercer Bridge 285-289 

Quaker Meeting House 286, 289 

V/i/'er Bridge 288 

Wash'ngton's heroism 287-8 

'•Clark's House" 289-291-292 

"Nassau Hall" .... 291-293-4, 295, 297 

Graveyard 295-296 

"Washington's Spring" 292-3 

The University of 292 293 

PRIVATE SOLDIER IN THE REVOLU- 
TION (The) 193-195 

PROVIDENCE, R. 1 198 

PUTNAM, GEN ISRAEL. 179-198-217, 

222-3 233 244 
PHILADELPHIA, PA. Independence 
Hall 200. 201 

Q. 

QUEBEC. Canada, References to, 145, 186 

R. 

RAHL, COL JOHANN G. (At Trenton), 

276-7 
RAPPAHANNOCK RIVER. 18, 30, 33, 

39. 43, 138 

RARITAN RIVER, N. J 259-265 

•RAYSTOWN', PA 128, 129, 131 



VI 



INDEX 



READ, GEORGE (Delaware signer of 

'Declaration') 201 

Real Estate Speculations of Washington, 
53, 105 

REDSTONE, FORT 100 

REED, GENERAL JAS 179-233 

REVERE, PAUL 169, 170 

Revolutionary Descendants, Societies of, 
194 

RHIND, MASSEY, Sculptor 263 

RICHMOND, VA 66, 150, 152 

RIVER EDGE, (Bergen Co.) N. J., 255, 
256 

ROANOKE, VA 49 

ROBINSON, JOHN, (Speaker of Vir- 
ginia Assembly) 142 

ROOSEVELT. THEODORE 26, 152, 232 
ROXBURY, MASS (Suburb of Boston), 

197 
ROYALISTS IN THE REVOLUTION, 

187-209 
RUTLEDGE, EDW. (of South Carolina), 
153-222 



ST, JOHN, CANADA 185 

ST. JOHN'S CHURCH, RICHMOND, VA., 

150 
ST. PAUL'S CHURCH, N. Y. City 
ST. PIERRE, French Commandant, 84, 
96 

SALT LICK, PA 116 

SALT MEADOWS OF N. J 253-4 

SAMPLES TAVERN, Pittsburg 145 

SCHELLSBURG, PA 129 

School davs of Washington 34 to 43 

SCOTCH "PLAINS, N. J 264 

SCHUYLER, GEN. PHILIP .... 162, 270 

Fort (N. Y.) 233-4 

"Self Education" 297 

SHARPE, GOV. (of Penn) 109 

•SHAWNEE VILLAGE', on Forbes' Road, 

129 
SHENANDOAH VALLEY, 44, 47, 48, 49, 

50, 57, 58. 126 
SHERIDAN, GEN. 'PHIL', references to, 

49, 48 
SHERMAN, ROGER, (Conn, signer of 

'Declaration') 147-202 

SHIPPENSBURG. PA 128 

SHIRLEY, GOVERNOR (of Mass) .... 126 
'SIGNERS' of the 'Declaration', the, 202- 
295 

SINCLAIR, SIR JOHN 112, 129 

SOMERFIELD. PA 124 

SOMERSET COUNTY, PA 89, 129 

N. J 299 

SPARKS. JARED (Biographer of Wash- 
ington) 187 

SPOTTSWOOD, GOVERNOR (of Vir- 
ginia) 149 

SPRINGFIELD, N. J 264 

ST.VFFORD COUNTY, VA. 33, 43 

STARK, GEN. JOHN 179-190 

STATEN ISLAND, N. Y.. 203-204-207 to 
210 

(Washinyton at) 207 8 

l^a'lor's Snu(/ Harbor 210 

'STEWART'S CROSSINGS', PA., 89, 93, 
94 145 

STEUBEN. BARON F. W. A 194 

STIRLING. GEN. WILLIAM ALEX- 
ANDER ('Lord) 217-8-301 

STOCKTON, RICHARD (N. J. signer of 

'Declaration') 202 

STONY POINT (On Hudson) 242 

STOYSTOWN, PA 129 

STRATTON, ME 186 



STUART, GILBERT, (Painter of Wash- 
ington) 156 

'SULGRAVE MANOR', English home of 
Washington's Ancestors 22 

SULLIVAN, GEN. JOHN, 217-218-270- 
274 

SUMNER, CHARLES 168 

SURVEYING DAYS OF WASHINGTON, 
39, 46, 48, 53, 58, 66, 68, 145 

SYRACUSE, UNIVERSITY OF 293 

T. 

TALLEYRAND (Napoleon's Mini-ster), 

187 
TAPPAN ZEE, N. Y. (Haverstraw Bay). 

212 
TARKINGTON, BOOTH, references to, 

137 
TARLETON, COL. BANASTRE (British 

Officer) 66 

TAYLOR, PRES. ZACHARY 123 

TAYLORVILLE, PA 272-3 

THOREAU, HENRY D 174-177 

THROG'S NECK, N. Y 232 to 235 

TICONDEROGA, FORT 185 

TOTTEN, FORT, (N. Y.) 233 

TOTTEXVILLE, Staten Island 209 

(BiUoi> House) 210-222 

TRENTON, N. J 267-268 269-292-3 

Washjif/tons Victory at. .... 274 to 284 

Batttf Monumi'nt 275-6 

As.mnpink Cnu-k 276-282 to 285 

St. Marys Cathedral 276-8 

Old Barracks 278-9 

1st Presbyterian Church ........ 277-284 

House of ijLndrrw Douglass 283 

TRYON, WILLIAM, (British Governor of 

N. Y.) 204, 208 

TUPPER, LIEUT. BENJ., (N. Y. Naval 

leader. 1776) 205 

TURTLE CREEK. PA 115 

TYLER. JOHN, (Pres. of U. S.) 81 

U. 

UNIONTOWN, PA 91, 92, 102 

LTnitarianism, notes concerning 177 

UNITY CHURCH PA 129 

UTRECHT, N. Y. (Long Iland), 214- 
216 

V. 

VALLEY FORGE, PA 192 

VAN BRAMM. JACOB 83 

VEALTOWN, N. J. (Bernardsville) .... 301 

VENANGO, PA 84, 133 

'Fort Venango' 84. 85, 95 

VERNON, ADMIRAL 36, 39 

VILLIERS, M. COULON DE (French Of- 
ficer) 104 

VIRGINIA, Assembly 134-142-149 

Colonial Architecture 82 

Colonial Council .... 46. f 7. 69 78, 102 
Colonial Capitol at Widiamshuro, 82, 
142, 148-9 

Colonial Troops 124. 125, 126 

In Pre-Revolutionarii fcrnunt, 148 to 
154 

'Bill of Rights' 149 

Revolutionary h'story 192 

Mountaine<rs 49 

W. 

WARD, GENRRVL ARTEMAS (of Mass.), 

159-180 184 
WARNER, SETH (at Crown Point), 185 
WATSON, (Philadelphia Annalist) .... 157 



INDEX 



Vll 



'WAKEFIELD', birthplace of Washington, 

17 to 30, 138, 143 
WALDEN POND, near Cambridge, Mass., 

177 
WALLACE, GEN. LEW, references to, 
49 

WARREN, DR. JOSEPH 179-180 

WASHINGTON, Augustine, 24, 26, 29, 
30. 31, 33, 38 

Bushrod 

Lawrence, 34 to 36, 45, 54, 67, 69 to 
76 

John A 39, 106. 143, 161 

Mary 28, 38, 43 

WASHINGTON. MRS. MARTHA; Por- 
trait 141 

Courtship 140 141 

Marriage 141-142 

(G. W.'s devotion to) 162-163 

During the Revolution 189-205-213 

WASHINGTON'S CROSSING, N. J., 272 

to 275 
WASHINGTON'S SPRING, PA., 91, 92, 
114 

Princeton, N. .1 292-3 

WATRKFORD PA 84 

WEBSTER. DANIEL 178 

WKKDOX, GEN. GEORGE i91-2-3 

WELLER, ERN. K., (Photos used), 116 
et seq. 132-3-4 

WENTWORTH. GEN 36 

WESTCHESTER COUNTY, N. Y., 139- 

230, 233 to 241 
WEST INDIES 71 to 75 

WESTMORELAND COUNTY VA 17 
45 . ., , 

WESTMORELAND COUNTY, PA 116 
129, 130 



WHITE PLAINS, N. Y., 235 to 239, 243 

(Battle of) 233 to 239 

{Washington's Hiuilquart(rs), 239, 240- 
241 

WHITE POST, VA 56, 57, 58 

WHITHERSPOON. DR. JOHN, of N. 

J 295 

WILDERNESS JOURNEYS OP WASH- 
INGTON 43-48 

WILLIAM III of England 294 

WILLIAMSBURG, VA., 78 to 83, 97. 135. 
137. 140, 141, 142. 148-9, 154 

(Old Powder Horn) 148-149 

(The Raleigh Tavern) 149 

[ColonM Capitol at) 150 151-152 

WILLIAM and MARY COLLEGE, 80, 81 

WILLS CREEK. MD 86 

WILSON. WOODROW, Pres. of U. S., 

298-299 
WIXCHE'sTER. VA., 49, 54, 83, 126, 
127. 140 

'Winehester Pike' 84 

WOLFE GENERAL (Hero of Quebec), 
145 

WOLFSBURG, PA 129 

WOOD COLONEL (of Alexandria, Va.), 
134 

WOODBRIDGE, N. J 264 

WORLD-WAR (1914-1918), 200, 231, 

250, 258, 299 
WYTHE. GEORGE, (Va. signer of Dec- 
laration) 201 

Y. 

YALE UNIVERSITY ^ 293 

YONKERS, N. Y 138-140-250 

YOUGHIOGHENY RIVER, 89 91, 93, 

114, 124 
YOUNGSTOWN. PA 129 




THE 



■1>I\E GROVE'. WASHIXGTOX'S BOYHOOD HOME ON THE RAPPA- 
HANKOCX, OPPOSITE FREDERICKSBURG, VIRGINIA 



/ 1 1 HE birthplace of Washington is so far removefl from 
\y the beaten track that very few indeed, save the most 
ardent students of history, have sought and found 
it. The latter stages of the journey to this out-of-the-way 
spot, irrespective of the route selected, cannot be made by 
rail. 

"Wakefield", new merely the name of an historic site, 
lies some thirty-five miles out from Fredericksburg, Virginia, 
in an exceedingly sparsely settled section of Westmoreland 
County, and is — unfortunately — more difficult of access 
than any of the other localities made memorable by the 
great name of "the father of his country". This, without 
doubt, is the reason for the meagre descriptions given, even 
in our best histories, and the paucity of available material 
to be found by the inciuiring reader. To state the fact that 
''Washington was born near Pope's Creek on the Potomac", 
is far easier than to actually visit the remote corner of Vir- 
ginia where, beside the great river, the infant 'Cincinnatus' 
first saw the light of dav. 



18 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

Yet perhaps it is just as well that we are beset by initial 
difficulties, and must, of necessity, penetrate into the by- 
ways and hedges of the 'Old Dominion' at the outset. We 
cannot know Washington without knowing Virginia; so let 
us attempt no dis-association of the man and his environs, 
but rather — conforming to the eternal fitness of things — 
follow 'in his footsteps' wherever they may lead. Thus di- 
rected, we shall journey in the hours of early morning to the 
pleasant glades of the ancestral estate — fragrant with the 
balm of ancient cedars — where the child of great promise 
was born; and, under the noonday sun, visit sleepy York- 
town — where our hero stood at the zenith of his career, 
dictating terms to the vanquished Cornwallis. Finally too, 
after the tale of an eventful life has been told, we must come 
again to Virginia to end our pilgrimage — in the hush of 
twilight to cast anchor upon the broad and silent Potomac 
'neath Mount Vernon's shadows. — for here the 'greatest of 
the Americans' reposes in dreamless sleep. Our recompense 
will prove to be four-fold: the glorious sunshine of Vir- 
ginia, the aristocratic hospitality of the Southland, the 
charm of an ever-present background of history, and an inti- 
mate acquaintance with the personal Washington. 

All things considered, northern Virginia is a region 
richer in colonial lore and historic significance than any 
other locality of similar extent in the entire country. Be- 
ginning here our quest for 'Washingtonia', we find a wide 
field for investigation — offering a wealth of material coupled 
with rare privileges of research — and backed by enough of 
corroborative evidence to make us sure of our footing. 

Around the quaint old town of Fredericksburg center 
most of the episodes of Washington's boyhood, and it is just 
possible to motor from this place to 'Wakefield' and return 
within the limits of a day, provided the roads are in ordinary 
condition, which — heaven knows — is wretched enough. 

The route leads back over the Rappahannock into the 
peninsula lying south of the Potomac, and by some the trip 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



19 



would be considered tedious in the extreme. In early 
spring-time however, when nature is beginnmg to blossom 
forth, the visitor from New England — where the winds of 
March still whistle — will experience a joyous thrill in be- 
holding the bless- 
ing of returning ' 
verdure. The ! 
birds blithely I 
twittering, the; 
peach trees bud- 
ding rosy pink, a 
touch of yellow 
here and there 
among the ever- 
greens on the hil- 
locks — with an oc- 
casional log cabin 
reminiscent o f 
pioneer day.s — all 
these impart that 
delightful rejuvi- 
nation w h i c h 
comes with 
changing scenes 
and seasons. 

But unless you 
have made Fredericksburg a base of operations for other 
expeditions, I would not recommend that route to 'Wake- 
held'. The better course, as I found by experience, is to 
travel by motor 'bus from Washington City to Morgantown, 
Maryland; thence across the Potomac to Colonial Beach, — 
now quite a popular Virginia pleasure resort — and then, for 
the last lap of the journey, to engage a private machine to 
convey you around the bend in the river to Pope's Creek. 
The story of my own wanderings in search of 'the birth- 
place' may. perhaps, serve as a warning to others. There 




^ii^Wi^*- 



•WAKEFIKLl). l-OPE « CKKKK. VIUUIMA 
—MONUMENT AT WASHINGTON'S BIRTHPLACE — 

A few rods behind the tall'obelisk flows the charming little 
stream which has given its name to the locality. 



20 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

happens to be a place by the name of Pope's Creek in INIaiy- 
land also, and I — in my ignorance — presumed that it lay 
somewhere nearly opposite the historic spot on the Virginia 
shore. In consequence, I found myself stranded late one 
evening in the wrong Pope's Creek, a miserable collection of 
negro hovels destitute of any white man's habitation, and 
from which God-forsaken place there was no means of de- 
parture until the morning. Fortunately I obtained shelter 
and supper in the humble home of a kindly disposed fisher- 
man half a mile beyond the 'town'; my host proving to be a 
devout and straight-forward old gentleman, blessed with a 
v.-ife who was an excellent cook and a charming little daugh- 
ter of twelve or thirteen who was the embodiment of candor 
and friendliness. After 'famly prayers' they sent me up to 
bed in the attic, very early and in good old-fashioned style, 
candle in hand. It proved to be one of those ancient and 
musty old garrets such as may be found in all frame houses 
built a century or so ago ; the night was warm and the mos- 
quitoes active. In consequence, I was up and out of doors 
at daybreak, and before the breakfast call had enjoyed an 
hour's digging in an Indian shell heap on the bluff overlook- 
ing the river — an archeological treat to one unfamiliar with 
this section of the country. Then came another unique ex- 
perience. The mail-boat, which is the only means of public 
transportation down the river, was not due until mid-day, 
and I improved the inten-ening hours by adding to my 
scanty knowledge of 'crabbing' ; rather hampering, I fear, 
than assisting my host. It must be admitted that a morning 
spent in a ponderous old row-boat, bobbing about on the 
choppy Potomac, scooping struggling Crustacea from a fif- 
teen-hundred-foot line baited with salted eel, was an episode 
somewhat foreign to my historic quest, yet I blessed the 
Lord for leading me astray. 

A reference to the map on the following page will show 
my readers where I went wrong. Colonial Beach is fully ten 
miles below Pope's Creek, Maryland. But the trip down 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



21 



the river is delightful, and at the 'beach', which is really a 
good substitute for a seaside resort, there is excellent bath- 
ing, hotel accommodation, and a sort of 'codfish aristocracy' 
who bask in an atmosphere more eccncmical than that of At- 
lantic City, even if 
n.ot quite so salubri- 
ous. 

I have gone thus 
into detail regarding 
the m a n n e r of 
reaching the true 
Pope's Creek, be- 
cause so few people, 
even in Washington 
o r Fredericksburg, 
can give the tourist 
intelligent dire c- 
tions as to how to 
reach the birthplace 
cf the 'first charac- 
ter' in American 
history. It is in- 
deed a matter of 
surprise that regu- 
lar 'all water' excur- 
sions are not run di- 
rect from the capi- 
tal to 'Wakefield', 
for even those who sunnner at Colonial Beach rarely take 
the trouble to traverse the few miles of woodland road 
which separate them from the old family estate of the 
Washingtons. One drawback for these who would like to 
row or sail down from the 'beach' is the absence of all dock- 
ing facilities at Wakefield ; the Potomac is rather rough for 
canoeists, and the river approach by boats other than those 
of light draught, is impossible. Even the highway makes a 




FOR THE GUIDANCE OF OTHERS WHO MAY BE IN- 
QUEST OF -THE BIRTHPLACE' 



90 



THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS 



circuitous detour, avoiding the marshes along the shore, and 
the two small runlets, Pope's and Bridge's Creeks, which 
meander through the adjacent meadows. 

A small portion of the once extensive '\Vai>:efield' estate 
is now a government reservation. This, of course, is the 
immediate site of the ancient hcmestead of the Washington 
family, a bit of slightly rising ground near the junction of 
the sluggish Pope's Creek with the great tidal river. The 
neighboring farms and plantations are unpretentious, and 
the only spot of interest along the way is the birthplace of 
President James Monroe. 



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THE ANGLO-AMERICAN SHRINE^ 



(Courtesy of "The Literary Digest") 



The first of the illustrious line of the American W^ash- 
ingtons who settled beside the Potomac reared the sturdy 
walls of the now vanished 'Wakefield' mansion somewhere 
about 1660. We may well dispense with the elaborate 
geneological preamble which has adorned most of the great 
General's biographies. Colonel John Washington, the roy- 
alist immigrant, was an Englishman ; and — exemplifying the 
best there was in the motherland, — made a good American. 



*(SuIgrave Manor, Northamptonshire, the English home of the Washingtons, about to 
he refitted to serve in future as a meeting-place for a 1 '"who wish to bring English- 
men and Americans to understand each other as members of one family." On the 
main doorway of the Manor House are the Washington arms, from which the General 
evo'.ved his Ijook-p'.ate.) 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



23 



He was the great-grandfather of our Washington. Without 
a doubt he was a man of ample means and influence among 
his pioneer neighbors, most of whom were — like himself — 
large landed proprietors, aristocrats to the backbone, yet 
personally devout and providently frugal withal. In these 
early days, so it appears, this section of Westmoreland 
County was usually referred to merely as 'Bridge's Creek', 
and near that little rivulet, in the old family vault, the first 
of the 'American Washingtons' with many of his descendants 
lies buried. 

Perhaps it would 
be well, before be- 
ginning the actual 
story of our nation- 
al hero, to seek out 
this sequestered 
nook, and pay hom- 
age to the founder 
of the line, from 
whom sprang t h e 
nearest thing we 
have to an Ameri- 
can 'nobility'. 

Had I not made 
it a point to visit 
this place of sepul- 
ture I should have 
gone away dissatis- ^^''''-'^^^ ^^^""'^ ^^^'^ ""^ ™^ Washington family. 

^ '^ BRIDGES CREEK, WESTMORELAND CO., VA. 

ned. 1 et my driver 

assured me that no other visitor to Wakefield had ever re- 
quested to be taken to the spot. In fact he himself was un- 
certain as to its precise location, and we were compelled to 
make inquiry among the negro farm hands working in the 
adjoining pasture. 

Guided by a pair of picturesque little darkies, we found 
a tangled jungle of vegetation surrounding and well nigh 




24 



THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS 



4'aHMUwwt4»3«mMiwaiitHwtmitiMHtHniittiiimiHimtiiitimim«^^ 



c(;vering a small walled enclosure in the open fields. \ ines 
and bushes grew thick, yellow tiger lilies blossomed in pro- 
fusion, honey-suckle and laurel ran in gay abandon over the 
graves of the long departed. The rusty iron gate had surely 
remained undisturbed for many months. 

Somewhat awestruck, my dusky companions looked on 
wonderingly as I stooped and carefully lifted the clinging 
tendrils from a moss-covered slab. Low and behold, my 
fii-st 'discovery' was the grave of Washington's own father, 
the kindly Augustine, who died at Fredericksburg in 1743 
and of whom we 
shall have more 
to say in the 
course of our 
narrative. A 1 - 
though the en- 
tire enclosure i s 
now in a neglect- 
ed state, I noted 
that this partic- 
ular slab h a d 
been restored in 
1908 by the Co- 
lonial Dames of 
Virginia. 

The old ac- 
counts all refer 
to this plot as 
'the Washington 
vault', and if it 
be such I pre- the grave of Washington's father 

sume the recumbent slabs — of which there are many — cover 
underground crypts in which the dead of several successive 
generations were laid. It is truly an historic spot ; one often 
visited and highly venerated by George Washington him- 
self, and doubtless frequently resorted to when the Wake- 




HhaawHWig<»OTiipmcat^^Hc«Biu»witiMu»iiiiimtitiiimiiiiic«|»MMiiMM^^ 



THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS 25 

field mansion existed and housed his numerous kinsmen. 

Reverting once more to our family chronology, we recall 
the fact that Lawrence Washington, the eldest son of the 
founder of the house, was born at Wakefield and is likewise 
here interred ; his death occurred in 1698 — in his thirty- 
seventh year. Augustine Washington ( father of the gen- 
eral ) was Lawrence's second son. Having been educated in 
England he returned to America in 1712 and, purchasing 
Wakefield from his brother, settled down three years later 
to enjoy the bliss of conjugality with Jane Butler, his newly 
acquired bride. 

L^ndoubtedly they were very happy; in so far as their 
place of residence was concerned, little more, it would seem, 
could be desired. The mansion commanded a fine view of 
the Potomac from the south, the plantation (then an indis- 
pensable part of every establishment ) was in a high state of 
cultivation, and as for near neighbors — well, in those days 
distance counted for naught ; everybody possessed the means 
of transportation and a few hours more or less consumed in 
goings and comings mattered not to the easy going Vir- 
ginians. 

To-day the utter loneliness of abandoned 'Wakefield' is 
lelieved by the presence of one commodious homestead in 
the immediate vicinity, occupied by a gentleman who owns 
the land encompassing the public reservation. Indeed, to 
gain access to the monument enclosure it is necessary to use 
his private road, which involves four or five stops for the 
letting down of pasture bars and the opening and closing of 
sundry ponderous gates. 

The splendid obelisk marking the site of the vanished 
manor house, which was set up in 1896, has the distinction of 
having been ''erected by the United States." Its founda- 
tions are said to be identical with the location of the sub- 
structure of the old house itself. Of this once fine mansion, 
beneath whose roof Washington was ushered into the world, 
not a trace now remains except perhaps a few scattered 



26 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 




AT THE BIRTHPLACE OF WASHINGTON 

fragments of old English brick which may be found here and 
there if careful search is made. 

Of the old Washington garden. I think we have one last 
living memento in the solitary fig-tree which stands near the 
base of the monumental column, although a sharp eye may 
discern other faint traces of ancient cultivation in the near 
neighborhood. On the slight elevation beside the creek 
there is a fine grove of evergreens, with a few odd-looking 
cactus plants interspersed at random, while down by the 
water may be found a choice collection of native flora and 
some few varieties of the more commonly cultivated plants 
— now grown wild these many years — the seeds of which, 
perhaps, were blown from the flower garden in the halcyon 
days of long ago. Beloved 'Teddy' Roosevelt, on one of his 
cruises down the Potomac in the Mayflower, visited this 
sacred spot, and — in a delightful letter to one of his absent 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



27 



'kiddies' — writes interestingly of these traces of the past, 
forming just such conclusions as would you and I. 

The Wakefield mansion had an eventful domestic his- 
tory covering a span of considerably over a century. As one 
recalls its long period of occupancy and its apparent im- 
portance in the affairs of the community, it is quite evident 
that the old house must have been a far more pretentious 
establishment than the humble little cottage so often spuri- 
ously depicted as 'the birthplace of W^ashington'. For three 
generations it had been adequate to the increasing require- 
ments of wealthy land-owners, who certainly were well able 
to provide a mansion in keeping with that of any of their 
neighbors, some of whose fine old residences remain in actual 
use to this day. 'Wakefield' was not destroyed by fire in 
1735 as some have said. On the contrary, it is stated by a 
trustworthy authority to have been standing up to the close 




MOUTH OF POPES CREEK, 'WAKEFIELD' 



28 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

of the Revolution ; so concerning its character we may rely 
upon the word of Washington himself — who had every 
reason to know whereof he spoke — that it was a 'colonial 
mansion'. 

Augustine W^ashington became a widower in 1728. Two 
years later, being but six and thirty, he wooed and wed the 
most captivating belle of Lancaster County — Mary Ball, 
'the Rose of Epping Forest' — whom he brought, in turn, to 
Bridge's Creek, there to be a foster-mother to his two boys, 
Lawrence and Augustine, besides a daughter of tender years. 
To these duties and responsibilities came the new mistress 
of 'W^akefield'. Evidently she was a woman combining 
many virtues and accomplishments, not the least of which 
was a true spirit of domesticity ; for circumstances had well 
qualified her to fill the exalted place she was destined to oc- 
cupy in American history - — that of the mother of Wash- 
ington. 

George was his mother's 'first born'; only a mother can 
understand just how much this means — the fond dreams. 
the concentrated love, the anxious solicitude, the unending 
patience, — God bless the mothers! 

It would seem inappropriate to dwell upon the infant 
Washington. Babies lack dignity: the Washington whom 
the world knows was the veritable embodiment of dignity. 
Yet it may be that even as a blue-eyed babe — with ruddy 
cheeks, — oft-kissed by a mother's caress, — he displayed a 
measure of self-possession and quiet good humor. I rather 
imagine that the chubby 'bundle of possibilities', over whom 
the spirit of destiny hovered, was inclined to be undemon- 
strative even in babyhood, and I fancy I can picture the 
bustling mother, pausing now and then to gaze fondly into 
the roving eyes which followed her about the large, low- 
ceiled room, half wondering what strange, unformed little 
thoughts were his. 

As we read the story of later years we conclude that the 
mother of W^ashington was a strict disciplinarian, unsenti- 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



29 







THE OLD WASHINGTON DRIVEWAY. LEADING PROM THE 
MAIN HIGHWAY TO 'WAKEFIELD' 

mental and eminently practical, and infer that it was Augus- 
tine Washington, the father, who came closest to the hearts 
of his boys. In a measure this is true, for when George had 
reached the age of ten the family had considerably expanded, 
and the mother's affection — strong as ever, but tempered by 
increased maternal cares — must necessarily have manifested 
itself in a manner more practical than effusive. Yet at the 
outset Mary Washington could have differed little from 
every other young mother. 

Since that oft-commemorated 22nd of February, 1732, 
when George Washington was born, one or more identifying 
tablets had been placed at 'Wakefield' prior to the erection 
of the present noble shaft. It is recorded that in June, 1815, 
G. W. P. Custis, the 'step-grandson' of the general, set in 
position a stone slab with a simple inscription. Accompanied 
by several distinguished gentlemen he sailed down the Po- 



30 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

tomac, from Alexandria. Arrived near the hallowed spot, 
the tablet was borne ashore, enveloped by the stars and 
stripes. At that time there remained abundant traces of the 
old mansion ; some of the bricks of the ancient chimney were 
gathered together and a rude pedestal constructed, upon 
which the inscribed stone was reverently placed. It is 
doubtful, however, whether any of the members of this party 
ever re-visited the deserted estate. 

Since then a hundred and more years have come and 
gone, and while the fame of Washington has spread, while 
his birthday is now regarded as one of the great and signal 
days of the year, the obscure corner of Virginia which was 
the place of his nativity has remained ccmparatively un- 
known, and the splendid obelisk now adorning the spot looks 
down upon a scene of pastoral serenity seldom disturbed, 
even by such visitors as reverence his name and revere his 
memory. 

As we left the precincts of old 'Wakefield" and retraced 
our way back to the main road, we had occasion to comment 
upon the rough driveway leading back from the river. This 
is, in all probability, identical with the private carriage road 
of the Washingtons, and most likely follows its original 
windings. As such it possesses a unique interest, for the 
youthful George used it frequently as he rode over frcm 
Fredericksburg to visit his half-brother in those years when 
his father had left this part of the state. It is more than 
likely, too, that horse and rider avoided the 'rough spots' and 
carefully picked their way just as we did in our little 'Ford.' 

Until quite recently historians were unaware that Wash- 
ington, as a very young child, spent five years of his life at 
that other beautiful estate on the Potomac which we know- 
to-day as Mount Vernon. It was a positively established 
fact that Augustine Washington in 1734 removed from 
'Wakefield' owing to continued sickness in his family, but it 
was formerly supposed that he immediately located on the 
banks of the Rappahannock opposite Fredericksburg. A few 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



31 



years ago — by the merest chance — the old vestry record of 
Truro Parish was discovered, and — among its varied entries 
of sectarian and locally historic 'doings' — the name of 
Augustine Washington appeared, with an appended memo- 
randum of his election as vestryman. To be an office-holder 
in the church adjacent to the 'Mount Vernon' lands certainly 
implied a residence in this locality, — hence the conclusions 
of modern biographers. 

Since 1670 this extensive grant, comprising upward of 
five thousand acres, had been in the Washington family, and 
in 1726 Augustine Washington had acquired title to half of 
it for a sum equivalent to nine hundred dollars. This por- 
tion of Fairfax 
County was then 
known by the 
old Indian name 
o f Epsewasson, 
and the present 
'Mount Vernon' 
property was 
originally the 
'Hunting Creek' 
estate of Augus- 
tine Washington, 
lying up the 
river some fifty- 
odd miles from 
Bridge's Creek. 
The now clearly established fact that he himself was a resi- 
dent there explains the presence of several very old buildings 
at Mount Vernon, and the ruined grist mill on Dogue Run, 
which here enters the Potomac. 

It is generally believed, furthermore, that Augustine 
Washington himself built the first residential manor at Ep- 
sewasson, probably on the site of the present structure. For 
five busy years he lived, labored and loved amid these beau- 




-OLD BARN AT MOUNT Vf^RNON, — RELIC OP 
WASHINGTON'S BOYHOOD DAYS 



32 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

tiful natural surroundings. Indeed he must have toiled with 
extraordinary diligence to transform the primeval wilderness 
into productive fields, and to create thereon a 'brand new' 
plantation in its entirety. Although he knew it not, he was 
but beginning the work of sixty years, and his dream-castle, 
carried to completion by his sons Lawrence and George in 
later years, was destined to become one of the 'show places' 
of the land. 

To-day we still find a monument to his work in the old 
barn behind the Mount Vernon mansicn. With its long, 
steep roofs, it is in as fine a state of preservation as one could 
wish, and I presume it now appears -very much as it did 
when little George, as a toddling youngster of three or four, 
cunningly evaded the watchfulness of his negro 'mammy' 
and stole surreptitiously out to the stables to make the ac- 
quaintance of the horses and to study their points of excel- 
lence. Through life Washington was an ardent achnirer of 
good horses, and undoubtedly it was a taste early acquired 
or — more than likely — 'bred in the bone'. And the ancestral 
barn, as we see it to-day, is the first tangible link in the 
chain of existing landmarks whereby we may visualize the 
life and activities cf our illustrious subject. 

The family of Augustine Washington had, during these 
years of 'pioneering', increased with astonishing regularity. 
Besides his two half-brothers, George had now three real 
brothers of his own — with a little sister thrown into the 
bargain: quite a good-sized army when they chose to 'play 
soldier', with a 'red cross nurse' ever ready to minister to the 
wounded when the combat waxed earnest and deadly. 

Life for the children at Epsewasson must indeed have 
been a continual round of delight, save perhaps for the ses- 
sion of evening prayer and devotion which undoubtedly 
formed an indispensable part of the day's routine — an ordeal 
which the 'juniors' would have been perfectly willing to 
omit. 

All too soon however, came a time when another move 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



33 



was made necessary. In 1739 fire completely destroyed the 
beautiful Epsewasson homestead. Captain Washington, 
evidently discouraged, decided not to re-build immediately, 
but to transport his family — bag and baggage — to his Pine 
Grove farm on the Rappahannock opposite Fredericksburg, 
in what is now Stafford County. The little house, portrayed 
as our chapter heading — copied from an old wood-cut which 




SPOT WHEItE STOOD GK0U(;E WASHIXUTONS BOYHOOD HOME. 
Hi'side the Uap))i\hanno(k opposite Frcdericks-burg, Va.. known as "the Ferry" or "Pine Grove'' 

is the authorized representation — illtistrates the humble 
character of their new quarters. For the life of me I cannot 
imagine how nine or ten persons could exist comfortably 
within such narrow compass; assuredly it must have been 
'a little house well filled'. Looking at it from cur standpoint 
we might say that it was a 'come down' for the aristocratic 
Washingtons; some writers have, in fact, given us the im- 
pression that they were, at this time, actually 'property 
poor'. Be that as it may, some of the children were shortly 
sent off to school ; this scattering process possibly serving to 
relieve the congestion and solve the 'housing problem'. 
Little George was now in his seventh year. 



34 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

The first break in the family circle, outside the death of 
an infant sister, had come a year or so before, when Lawr- 
ence (George's half brother) had been sent away to England 
to study at the Appleby Grammar School, where his father 
had received his early education. Augustine Washington, 
regarding Lawrence as the future head of the family, 
was evidently determined that he should be well 
equipped for life's battles. As for George, he trotted 
away each morning to a little school-house near his home, 
over which presided the worthy Mr. Hobby, sometime grave- 
digger of the parish, and one of the tenants of the Washing- 
ton farm. In these early years the Washington children 
must have received a considerable amount of home training. 
The father appears to have 



■ScriptuwS^ E V E L AT r o :sin PartJcuUr. 

I< .. BOTH'' -' ^ '/I I / .-jV'-- 

the Matter of tL and 




J § ms to the 'Pvco^.qf iti . 
iThat|N 4 W I, e V Fl L A T 10 N s' 



taken great pains with their 
instruction. From the half- 
fabulous yearns of the cher- 
ty-tree and the little garden 
patch with 'g-e-o-r-g-e 
w-a-s-h-i-n-g-t-o-n' spelled 
in flowers — all of which 
wound up with some ap- 

. Earliest known writing of the little bov George Wiisliin^tou 

propriate sermonette — we (Courtesy of w. w. EUsworth) 

gather that Augustine Washington desired, more than all 
else, that his boys should be 'plain good' rather than excep- 
tionally clever. He was himself a man of culture, with a 
library well stocked for those days, and was fully qualified 
to act as tutor to his little flock. That young George occa- 
sionally browsed around among the books is evidenced by an 
old volume of sermons, still extant — supposedly from his 
father's library,— upon the title page of which we may see 
his name scrawled twice. 

At this time he could scarcely have been more than nine 
or ten years of age — a period in a boy's career when the 
blank pages of a psalter afford wonderful opportunities for 
scribbling and sketching during the dreaded sermon-hour on 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 35 

the Lord's day. I picture Washington in these care-free 
jears as merely an ordinary, healthy little chap, in no wise 
(iifferent from the other boys with whom he romped and 
played over the meadows beside the Rappahannock, except 
perhaps that he was rather quiet than quarrelsome, more of 
an executive in miniature than an agitator. I do not think 
he was full of mischievous energy — although he may have 
been seduced at times to join in such ignoble diversions as 
placing tacks on the teacher's chair when the hours dragged 
wearily. I fancy he was of the creative type; the kind of 
boy who looks abstractedly out cf the window and plans the 
building of a boat or the construction of a dug-out cave. 

There comes, however, a time in the life of almost every 
boy when some 'big brother' crosses his path, and the influ- 
ence exerted by the latter, either for good or evil, is incalcul- 
able. That period is usually in the early 'teens. The thrill 
of the 'gang spirit' has somewhat subsided: the boy, begin- 
ning to experience the indefinable longings of manhood, 
seems to seek involuntarily for maturer companionship and 
leadership, for the example of precedent to guide him, "What 
have other fellows done"? he asks. It is the age of hero- 
worship, — of an almost passionate fondness for a trusted 
and ideal 'pal', — that intense interval of yearning for an in- 
timate friendship which comes just before the picturesque 
and inevitable epoch of sentiment and j'omance. It is that 
'period of storm and stress' when, as has been truly said, "a 
fellow needs a friend." 

It was upon the 'second return' to Virginia of his half- 
brother Lawrence that George Washington passed from the 
playful days of childhood to the more interesting stage of 
boyhood, when he sought and happily found a congenial 
companion who had already been broadened by some of the 
real experiences of life, yet was not too selfish to appreciate 
the confidences and friendship of a boy. 

There was a difference of some fourteen years in their 
ages at this time, yet between the earnest little youngster of 



36 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

ten and the handsome young officer of four and twenty 
there arose a friendship, stronger than any blood ties of 
brotherhood, and destined to be of undying influence. 

Lawrence had come back from school in 1738; well edu- 
cated, accomplished and ambitious. Even then his little 
brother, although too young to be truly appreciative, must 
have regarded him as a paragon of virtue and nobility. In 
the following year Lawrence had donned the uniform of a 
captain in a newly recruited regiment of Virginia volunteers, 
and had once more sailed away ; this time 
to the Spanish Main, where England was 
mobilizing forces by land and sea to strike 
at France and Spain in reprisal for depre- 
dations on British commerce in West In- 
dian waters. During an absence of two 
years and more he saw much of active 
service, participating in the ill-fated at- 
tempt of Admiral Vernon and General 
W^entworth against the Spanish strong- 
hold of Carthagina, in what is now the ^-^^'R^nce Washington 
Columbian Republic, South America. In this unsuccessful 
assault and the consequent maneuvers in and around tlio 
pestilential lowlands of this 'far country', more than half 
the Virginia contingent of the King's forces had succumbed. 
Lawrence himself suffered so much from exposure that his 
constitution was permanently undermined. Although, when 
he returned to Virginia in the autumn of 1742 he was in 
apparent health, the seeds of disease were already deeply 
rooted in his system. 

It may well be imagined that the pomp and acclaim 
awarded to the returning veterans made a profound impres- 
sion upon little George; small wonder that he pounced upon 
their captain with a proud sense of possession. Lawrence, it 
is quite evident, completely won the heart of his small 
brother this time; admiration soon ripened into love, and 
pardonable pride soon lost itself in profoundest personal at- 




THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 37 

tachment when the boy realized that his advances were re- 
ciprocated. 

Every man who is familiar with boys and their ways 
knows that to their chosen companions, rather than to father 
or mother will they confide their perplexities and aspira- 
tions. This being admitted, we must accord to Lawrence 
Washington, the friend and adviser, a measure of credit 
equal to that given the parents for the inculcation of those 
fine principles and the fostering of those worthy ambitions 
in the heart of the boy, which bore fruit in Washington's 
subsequent career, so uniformly just and honorable. 

To the stranger visiting Fredericksburg to-day it is a 
source of satisfaction to find the boyhood 'stamping-ground' 
of Washington practically unaltered by the 'improving' 
tendency of the age. The northern bank of the Rappahan- 
nock, where once stood Tine Grove', still remains a region 
of farmland. While the city across the river has been slowly 
growing during the last century and a half, it seems that 
there has been no thought of expansion in this direction. 
'Pine Grove', like 'Wakefield' in Westmoreland, has van- 
ished : indeed, so long ago as the time of Washington Irving, 
the historian, we note that "no traces save a few remains of 
masonry, broken earthenware and china served to indicate 
where the house had formerly stood." But the muddy river 
and the rolling meadows remain unchanged, affording a 
charming vista of pastoral scenery many miles in extent. 
Standing upon either of the bridges spanning the Rappa- 
hannock at Fredericksburg you may obtain a very compre- 
liensive idea of the locality which is even yet spoken of as 
'the Washington farm'. If you look for mementos of the 
youthful Washington in the town itself you will be disap- 
pointed, although there is abundant material bearing upon 
his later life which we shall discuss in due time. Fredericks- 
burg and Alexandria were, in the days of Washington's boy- 
hood, the two most important communities in northern Vir- 
ginia; the former was the only 'large city' with which he was 



38 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 




familiar prior to his participation in the colonial wars and 
the consequent journeyings to Williamsburg, so Fredericks- 
burg still prides itself on being 'Washington's home-town'. 

The year following the home-coming of the beloved 
Lawrence was saddened by the death of Washington's 
father. Augustine W^ashington, — big sturdy frontier- 
planter that he was — died on the 12th of April, 1743, at the 
comparatively youthful 
age of forty-nine, the 
victim of exposure oc- 
casioned while attend- 
ing to his manifold du- 
ties. Thus was George, 
at the age of eleven, 
thrown yet more under 
the influence of his 
mother and Lawrence, 
who now — in reality — 
might be looked-up-to 
as the head of the main branch of the Washington family. 

Mary Washington was an intensely practical woman, 
and it seems evident that with the added responsibilities of 
widowhood she took up the reins of family government with 
redoubled earnestness. Probably realizing that 'too much 
leeway' often works havoc with growing children, she be- 
came more exacting in her intercourse with them. From 
this time forward her will was law and her servants and busi- 
ness agents evidently regarded her with a wholesome re- 
spect. This feeling must have been shared by her children, 
for every one of the letters addressed to her by her most 
distinguished son — not only in youth but in later life — bore 
this significant salutation — "Honored Madam" — as though 
they were intended for one with whom undue familiarity 
would be amiss. 

The paternal estate was very fairly apportioned among 
the Washington children. Lawrence received Epsewasson, 



The Mary Wasliiiigton Hospital, Fredericksburg, A'a, 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



39 



upon which the father, shortly before his death, had begun 
the erection of a new manor house. Immediately upon tak- 
ing possession he named it Mount Vernon in honor of his 
former commander, and hither, as we shall presently nar- 
rate, soon brought a blushing bride. To Lawrence's brother, 
John Augustine, reverted 'Wakefield' in Westmoreland — the 
oldest of all the homesteads — -where George had been born. 
As for George himself, the Tine Grove' house in which his 
father had died and the broad acres surrounding it were to 
be his portion in due time; while the widow had been be- 
queathed an ample competency with the guardianship of 
the legacies of all the minor children. 

About this time, so history says, young Washington was 
sent to an academy near Bridge's Creek to complete his edu- 
cation. In these 

days, it must be con- / 
fessed, the idea of ' 
an 'academy' in this 
remote region seems 
inconceivable. Prob- 
ably it was a pri- 
V a t e 1 y conducted 
school for advanced 
pupils, attended by 
sons of the wealthy 
planters from a ra- 
dius of many miles. 
The presumption is 
D h a t Washington, 
during this period, 
lodged with h i s 

brother John A U- Another bU of the Rappahannock at Fredericksburg, 

gustine under the old ancestral roof of 'Wakefield'. Little 
is known concerning the extent of his academic training, 
save that he familiarized himself with geography and sur- 
veying, and became an adept at figures. Mathematics was to 




40 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

liis liking, and in this particular branch of study, at least, he 
excelled. The boy was now rapidly developing into the 
man. and during this period of his life — when school work 
was varied by frequent visits to the home of his mother and 
to that of Lawrence at Mount \'ernon — must be assigned 
those episodes of youthful prowess regarding which so much 
has been written. 

All accounts attest to the fact that young Washington 
was well equipped by nature to cope with the emergencies 
of farm and frontier. For a boy he was a fair all-round 
athlete, a skillful horseman, — as might be expected — and a 
'good shot'. As I recently heard a Virginian express it. he 
was a 'squirrel shooter', meaning I suppose that he could 
unerringly bring down small game. 

The youthful Washington affords an interesting charac- 
ter study. While in no sense an angel of perfection, his 
physical, mental and moral make-up seems to have been 
well blended and evenly proportioned. Nothing now extant 
gives such a comprehensive clue to his code of ethics as the 
long list headed "Rules of Conduct", which he neatly copied 
and evidently digested thoroughly during his latter years at 
school. These precepts contain the essence of common sense 
and good breeding, and if followed by any boy to-day would 
surely be the means of transforming even the most un- 
l^romising 'galoot' into a polished gentleman. Some of the 
admonitions are rather amusing, as — "In your apparel be 
modest, and endeavor to accommodate nature rather than to 
procure admiration." Others are highly moral, for instance 
— "Let your recreations be manful — not sinful". Still 
more contain trite advice such as — "Whisper not in the 
company of others". — "Sleep not when others speak", — 
"Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of another". 

The reader may refer to a complete list of these pro- 
verbs and injunctions in the "Schroeder-Lossing Life of 
Washington". By comparing this set of rules with subse- 
quent events in the actual life of the General, an interesting 



THE YOl^TH IN THE WILDERNESS 



41 



parallel is exhibited. You will find these maxims exempli- 
fied to the letter in all his dealings with friend or foe, amid 
the relaxations of his own fireside companions or the acute 
tensions of campaigning. Place the precept and the deed 
side by side, and appreciate the proof of life-lessons well 
learned. 

There are no authentic pictures of the youthful Wash- 
ington. Any artist could, without difficulty, prepare an at- 
tractive illustration for a work of this character by portray- 
ing a lithe and 
agile figure, garbed 
in the costume of 
the period, stand- 
i n g beside o r 
mountefl upon a 
spirited horse. To 
do so he wculd be 
compelled either 
t(' select a life 
model or have re- 
course to his own 
fertile imagina- 
tion. May I not 
then take advant- 



age of a similar 
privilege, and 
present a charac- 
ter-study from life, making no attempt at ' camouflage' f 
My photograph depicts a real live American boy of to- 
day, whose face and personality closely duplicate those of 
the young Virginian, in so far as I am able to imagine and 
analyze, after painstaking study and careful comparison. I 
think you will agree with me that there is a striking re- 
semblance between the placid features of 'Scout E. J. F.' and 
the earliest known portrait of Washington reproduced in the 
chapter immediately following. Among the great number 




•GKORGE WASHlXGrON' UP-TO-DATE 



42 



THE YOrTH IX THE WH^DERNESS 




of young- men whose intimate friendships I cherish, I find 
no other who appears to me to be so nearly a Washingtonian 
antitype. Young Washington was handsome of face and 
figure; rather reserved, highly sensitive, carefully 'brought 
up' amid aristocratic surroundings, and scrupulously neat in 
person and attire. He adhered to an almost inviolable code 
of ethics all his own, was fair in his judgments, true to his 
friendships, and had 'grit'. Thus I appraise him. If the sub- 
ject of my illustration falls short cf any of the worthy traits 
of Washington it may be that he lacks initiative. Other- 
wise, he comes 
pretty nearly 'up 
to the standard'. 
The original of 
my snap-shot, — 
which is, by 
the way, in- 
serted without 
permission — will 
no doubt exper- 
ience conflicting 
emotions of 
wrath and as- 
t(>nishment a t 
my audacity in 
making him an 
example. In self- 
defense I can only say that, if he is willing to pay the price 
of success, (which is hard work coupled with everlasting 
optimis7n) he will, without a doubt, 'make good' and amply 
justify the high regard which prompts this startling com- 
parison. 

Washington's pre-arranged education, was completed 
during his sixteenth year. It is a fact that the modern boy 
of twelve has a wider fund of 'book knowledge' than did 
he; but Washington, with eyes open to the wonderful work- 



THE STORY OF THE KNIFE. 

This little pocket knife, which the General carried on 
his person for many years, is now carefully preserved in 
the Masonic Lodge Room at Alexandria. It is said to 
have bo^en presented to young Washington by his mother 
as a token of her appreciation for his willingness to fore- 
go the experiences of a sailor in deference to her wishes. 
"Always obey" said she, as she bestowed the gift. 

Years later, when Washington, during the Valley 
Forge winter, was on the point of resigning his commis- 
sion and allowing the vacillating members of Congress to 
continue in their ruinous course of neglect and suffer 
the consequences, he was reminded by General Knox, 
who knew the story of the knife, of the supreme duty of 
nbedicnce. Sworn as he was to 'obey' the orders of Con- 
gress, the words of is.nox caused him to reconsider his 
determination. He decided to 'stick to his job' and tight 
it out as best he could with thi- help of God and of his 
faithful soldiers. 



THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS 43 

ings of nature, and a familiarity with the details of the life of 
a frontier planter, had acquired a solid and excellent founda- 
tion, upon which — during later years — he built a superstruc- 
ture in keeping with the ever-increasing requirements of his 
military and political career. He seems to have continued 
in steady adherence to a program of mental expansion 
throughout his life, although I question whether he ever 
possessed the versatility and heavy mental calibre of Jeffer- 
son or Franklin. Grackially, as we shall see, he developed 
into a keen, hard-headed business man, a careful and reso- 
lute soldier, and an astute and fai -seeing politician. 

In all probability the youthful aspirations of Washing- 
ton were somewhat at variance with the plans of his ultra- 
conservative mother. We know that about the time of his 
quitting the academy he cherished a burning desire to go to 
sea. Stafford County was a region of plantations, and the 
Potomac farms yielded rich crops of tobacco, much in de- 
mand abroad. Then as now the Rappahannock was naviga- 
ble, and to the old city wharf at Fredericksburg came occa- 
sional small ships from over the ocean to discharge an end- 
less variety of foreign merchandise and to re-load with the 
raw material of the colony. Small wonder then that the lure 
of the open sea took strong hold on the boy and he enthused 
over the superiority of a 'life on the rolling deep' rather than 
the peaceful pursuits of husbandry. 

The prospect of joining the King's navy looked mightily 
attractive to the country lad; indeed preparations were 
actually made for his speedy departure. At the last mo- 
ment, however, Mrs. Washington interposed most decidedly, 
and the boy reluctantly agreed to give up the idea, although 
well-nigh broken hearted at the collapse of his fondly laid 
plans. But ere long other duties and opportunities came his 
way, serving to divert his thoughts into more practical chan- 
nels. The immensities of the rugged wilderness lay just 
ahead although he knew it not, and quiet Fredericksburg, 
which had been the scene of his unfolding years, was soon to 



44 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



be for him but a place of infrequent visitation — for old asso- 
ciations' sake and for his mothers'. In the autumn of 1747 
he departed for Mount Vernon, where, for the next few years 
he continued to reside as a member of the household of his 
brother Lawrence. 

When the latter had married in 1743, the year in which 
his father passed away, he forthwith established a tie of 
closest relationship with another family very famous in the 
annals of the history of colonial Virginia, — the high-born 
'Fairfaxes'. The aristocratic and powerful connections thus 
formed were destined to be the medium whereby the future 
father of the republic was to win his first public recognition 
and become fairly started on his way to fame and fortune. 

A singular old 
gentleman was 
'the Right Hon- 
orable Thomas, 
Lord Fairfax, 
Baron of Camer- 
on', whose im- 
mense land hold- 
i n g s in the 
'northern neck' 
of Virginia and 
the Shenandoah 



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ililliilH It 


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One of the Main Roads over the Blue Ridge Mountains, 
east ; traversing a region well known to Washington i 
surveying days 



Valley were 
equivalent to a 
goodly sized old-world kingdom. This cultured English 
nobleman was a bachelor — crossed in love, they say — who 
came to America for the first time in 1739, to look over his 
inherited possessions on this side of the Atlantic. Deeply 
impressed with the attractiveness of his extensive estate, he 
determined to wind up his affairs in England, and in 1746, 
after saying 'good-bye' to the social whirl of London, he 
settled down permanently in Virginia with the avowed in- 
tention of spending the remainder of his life (destined to be 



lookinjj 
n his 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 45 

a long one, for he survived until 1781 ) on the very frontier 
of civilization. We shall distinguish him as 'American Fair- 
fax number one', although in reality he was the sixtJi lord in 
his noble line of descent. 

'Number two' in the Fairfax 'blue book' was Colonel 
William, a first cousin of the preceding, who had been sent 
to America by his lordship as early as 1734 to fill the lucra- 
tive yet responsible position of general overseer or agent, 
having entire charge of the extensive domain. Col. William 
Fairfax was, like his patron and relative, a refined gentle- 
man — a man of reputation and sterling worth. On arriving 
in Virginia he had taken up his residence in Westmoreland 
County where, it is probable, he first became acquainted 
with the Washingtons. Like them he soon moved up the 
Potomac, and built for himself the mansion of 'Belvoir' just 
across the Dogue Creek from the Epsewasson or IVlount Ver- 
non estate of Augustine Washington. A friendship of the 
most cordial nature existed between the two families; almost 
side by side their spacious manors overlooked the river, while 
their expanding plantations rivaled each other in efficient 
management and productiveness. Quite natural then that 
Lawrence Washington, home from the wars and seeking a 
congenial life-partner, should fall in love with Anne Fairfax. 
As we have noted, they were, in due course, united in the 
bonds of matrimony, and LawTence, establishing himself at 
the re-built JMount Vernon manse, had his good-natured 
father-in-law for a next-door-neighbor. 

The third Fairfax to figure in our chronicle is young 
George William, the colonel's son, who has found a place in 
history as a close friend of George Washington and the com- 
panion of his wilderness journeys. Their intimacy began, we 
may suppose, with the coming of the latter fi'om Fredericks- 
burg to Mount Vernon. Lawrence Washington was now 
busy with domestic affairs, and the fifteen-year-old graduate 
found a second companion with similar tastes and ambitions 
in the scion of the house of Belvoir, who must have been 



46 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



' BOOK o£ jSrUHVEYI 

BeJJJL 



JULY- 22- 



some five years his senior. I conjecture that the latch strings 
of both mansions were open to either cf the youthful 
planters, and very likely they were usually to be found in 
each other's company — 'next door'. 

It is to be regretted that Belvoir no longer remains. 
For forty years it was noted for its princely hospitality. 
Colonel Fairfax soon made himself a valued factor in the 
life of the neighborhood, 
and having become a Vir- 
ginian by adoption, took 
a keen interest in the re- 
ligious life of the parish 
and the political develop- 
ment of the community. 
Before many years we 
find him occupying the 
position of president of 
the Colonial Council; — 
smple evidence of his 
standing. 

To Belvoir, moreover, 
came Lord Thomas Fair- 
fax himself upon his defi- 
nite settlement in Vir- 
ginia, adding still further 
to the lustre of the Po- 
tomac mansion. Here he resided for two or three years until 
the completion of his own 'quarters' away cff in the unde- 
veloped wilderness, to which country-seat we shall later refer 
as 'Greenway Court'. 

The boy Lincoln used to say "I will study and get ready 
and, maybe, some day, my chance will come." This is just 
about what transpired in the case of George Washington. 
The subject which had most interested him at Mr. Williams' 
academy was that of land surveying: truly an important 
matter in those pioneer days. Already he had made many 




Title page to one of Washington's 
books of Surveys 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 47 

private surveys around about Fredericksburg, a record of 
which he carefully preserved in a series of well arranged 
'field books'. His youthful diagrams, seme of which are still 
extant, exhibit a great amount of painstaking care, proving 
that he enjoyed the work and prided himself upon its 
thoroughness. After becoming a member i;f the Mount 
Vernon family he continued to perfect himself in his favorite 
vocational work, and while we cannot determine whether he 
had fully decided upon surveying as his life's occupation, we 
do knnw that he entered into it heart and soui. The busi- 
ness of surveying in those days was no sinecure, but it was 
rather a lucrative calling, and indeed one for which Wash- 
ington was exceptionally fitted by his mental and physical 
qualifications. 

The all-hnportant matter of 'getting a start' is usually 
a period of bitter disillusion for the ycung man entering the 
business or professional world, but in the case of George 
Washington, fortune was apparently in his favor. A splendid 
opportunity came his way, and he — being prepared — seized 
it and 'made good'. 

Lord Fairfax, finding himself duly settled at last in his 
practically undefined domain, determined to ascertain the 
precise extent and character thereof. So he fixed upon the 
alert boy of sixteen, whose application and proficiency he 
had already noted, as one well qualified to accompany his 
young kinsman, George William Fairfax, on an expedition of 
investigation into the backwoods of the Shenandoah Valley. 
This "Journey over the Mountains," as Washington has 
called it, was his first great adventure, and it marks the be- 
ginning of his career. It enabled him to prove his worth, 
for not only did he demonstrate that he was a capable sur- 
veyor, but that he could act upon his own initiative if need 
be, and use good judgment. 

The trip covered a month of unprecedented activity. 
From March 11th until the 13th of April, 1748, the 'two 
Georges' — accompanied by but a few assistants — were con- 



48 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

tinually 'on the go'; some days covering as many as forty 
miles across country, on other occasions clambering about in 
the rain and wind, through bog and over precipice, in the 
prosecution of their work of mapping out the wilderness. 

Washington's own interesting account furnishes a fairly 
complete narrative of his experiences. His wording is quaint, 
once-in-a- while the spelling is original — but his brief de- 
scriptions are fully expressive, as — for example, his recital of 
the woes and annoyances incident to the third night spent 
by the party amid the mountains. They had alighted at the 
cabin of a squatter, and, in anticipation of a good night's 
rest, George had carefully disrobed and clambered into bed. 
Then, to his disgust, he found it to be nothing but a meagre 
pallet of straw, covered with a thread-bare blanket thickly 
infested with vermin. This was too much for the fastidious 
youth fresh from the eider-down of Mount Vernon, wlio 
a>'ose in haste, donned his raiment, and selected the softest 
corner of the floor. He was destined, however, to become 
very well seasoned before the conclusion of the journey. 

The territory covered by these first surveys was that 
legion where to-day the twisted contours of Virginia. West 
Virginia- and Maryland seem to dove-tail. The workers 
appear to have gone as far north as Frederick, Maryland, 
and we know that they progressed for many miles down the 
'South Fork' of the Shenandoah, through the wonderful 
country of the Blue Ridge. Altogether it was a rough trip. 
We find the trail-blazers camping out amid the solitudes of 
the wooded uplands, swimming their horses over swollen 
rivers, and seeking shelter from torrential rains beneath the 
dripping giants of the forest, — while Washington himself 
narrowly escaped cremation on one occasion when a sudden 
gust of wind, blowing embers from a smoldering fire, set his 
bedding ablaze. 

Washington's comments as recorded in the 'journal" 
well reveal the mixed characteristics of the boy and the man. 
each uppermost in turn. We find him mischievous enough 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



49 




to experience delight in the fantastic dances of a wandering 
band of redskins, whose quondam gravity had given place 
to a series of ludicrous antics as the result of generous pota- 
tions of the Fairfax 'fire-water'. Again, we read his sage 
comments regarding the benighted condition of the ignorant 
backwoodsmen and their families (the progenitors of the 
'poor white trash' of 
to-day) whom he re- 
gards as far inferior 
to the Indians. 

The Valley of the 
Shenandoah is a re- 
gion made memor- 
able not merely by 
the youthful ex- 
ploits of Washing- 
ton, but by the Civil 
War movements of 
Sheridan, Lew Wal- 
lace and Jubal Early. In our day two nearly parallel rail- 
ways traverse this delightful Valley of Virginia'; the Nor- 
folk and Western following quite closely the windings of the 
'South Fork'. Mile after mile, from Winchester to Roanoke, 
there stretches on either hand a seemingly endless succession 
of wild and rugged cone-like peaks ; one town along the line 
being aptly named 'Vesuvius'. At no point is the plain of 
such width that both ridges of the hilly barriers may not be 
seen on either hand, although at times they are separated 
by a greater distance than one might imagine. In the fast- 
nesses of these mountains there still lurk a few brown bears, 
and considerable 'moonshine' whiskey continues to flourish 
despite the vigilance of deputy sheriffs and prohibitionists. 
Neither the laws of God nor man mean much to the Virginia 
mountaineers; their haunts are as much out of reach and 
their byways as little known now as were these same un- 
trodden hills in the days of Lord Fairfax. 



'J'he Railway Bridge over Opequon Creek, near Winchester, 

Va., another neighborhood familiar to the youthful 

Washington 



50 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 




A PICTURESQUE BEND IX THE SHENANDOAH 

But the intervening valleys are populous and well culti- 
vated, beautiful in the extreme, fertile and abunt'.antly- 
watered, with a few manufacturing establishments now tail- 
ing root here and there. Certain favored spots in the hills, 
by reason of mineral springs or other health-giving assets. 
have grown into high-class vacation resorts and year-round 
sanatoriums, adding to the general prosperity and attractive- 
ness of the region ; and — were Lord Fairfax to come back to 
claim his own, he would probably have every reason to be 
satisfied. 

That there are treasures beneath the hills of Fairfax- 
land, as yet but fragmentarily explored, every traveler who 
has visited this locality will attest. I refer to the wonderful 
subterranean caverns which at Luray and 'Grottoes' have 
been opened to the public. In this respect we have the ad- 
vantage of Washington, for of their existence he was abso- 
lutely unaware. 

I did not visit the caves at 'Grottoes', although I noticed 
a line up of saddled horses tethered beside the depot in read- 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 51 

iiiess to transport parties of tourists to the foot of the distant 
hills. At Luray where I left the train, the hotel omnibus 
waits to convey visitors to a good old Virginia dinner, after 
which, be it day or night, they may journey out to the 
caverns and 'go below' into an Alladin's wonderland of 
crystal — a fairy world of glittering stalactite. 

A series of limestone caves of vast extent underlies the 
outskirts of the town. Fully three miles of underground gal- 
leries and passages, lavishly decorated by the solidified drip- 
pings of ages — which have taken to themselves the forms of 
columns and images, festoons and draperies- — delight the eye 
of the astonished beholder. These spacious halls of silence 
are filled with strange likenesses in stone ; — fashioned by the 
hand of Nature — seme of them in forms almost human and 
recognizable, others in semblance unlike anything ever seen 
"upon the earth, in the sky above, or in the waters under the 
earth". It is quite evident that at one time a great deluge 
of water did indeed surge through these awesome chambers 
of night. When first discovered, in 1878, the explorers found 
it necessary to use a boat in order to penetrate into the 
farther recesses of the caverns; now they are dry for the 
most part, except of course an imperceptible filtration from 
above, and a few deep springs, where water clear as crystal 
bubbles up from some unknown source in the bowels of the 
earth. These transparent wells of gi'eat depth possess a 
peculiar fascination. Most of the natural calcite formations 
remain perfect as when first discovered, others are slowly 
building year by year, while two or three fallen monoliths 
remind us of the prehistoric subterranean flood which under- 
mined them. 

Unlike the artificial catacombs of Rome, the air in these 
vaulted chambers is not frigidly cold, although some sections 
lie three hundred feet and more beneath the surface of the 
earth; and a 'personally conducted tour' through the elec- 
trically lighted labyrinth is a pleasing and bewildering ex- 
perience. The agreeable old gentleman who usually pilots 



52 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



the visitors knows every foot of the way, yet he takes the 
precaution of carrying a lighted lantern, lest, by any mis- 
chance, a fuse should 'blow out' or something go wrong with 
the illuminating system. He is a devout moralist, and at 
every possible opportunity works into his explanatory 
lecture a little sermon for the spiritual up-building of his 
hearers. He is so courteous and evidently sincere, however, 
that we pardon the cant and respect him for his good inten- 
tions. 

The Luray Caverns are indeed superbly wonderful, like 
an antechamber to the unfathomable abyss of Pluto's realm. 
The percolating water, with its peculiar mineral admixture, 
working through the 
thickness of the 
solid rock above, is 
slowly — very slowly 
— still continuing to 
build the great 
'stone icicles', atom 
by atom. The dis- 
tant lights shining 
through their lace- 
like tracery reveal 
every color-shade 
of coral, yellow and 
brown; the forma- 
tions resembling va- 
riegated onyx or amber-agate, in composition being brittle 
and metallic. 

There is but one 'human touch' in all this beautiful 
underworld of stone. Away down in a deep pit, half im- 
bedded in a growing stalagmite, are to be seen the remains 
of a skeleton, the bones of a boy— so scientists have said — 
about fourteen years old ! Calculating the number of years 
requisite to form this stony shroud, it is estimated that fullv 
five centuries must have elapsed since their entombment. 




i\ THK c.vvp:kxs of i.i i:v^ 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 53 

How came they here? Surely a mystery with but one logical 
solution. It is conjectured that some aboriginal lad while 
roaming through the forest above, — possibly hunting — ven- 
tured incautiously into a treacherous hole in pursuit of his 
quarry, and, stumbling around in the darkness, was precipi- 
tated into these cavernous depths; an underground whirl- 
pool, maybe, depositing his body in the recess where the 
bones were found centuries later and remain to this day. 
The very thought of such a grewsome tragedy sends a shiver 
down the spine of the most hardened visitor. 

All things considered, the Luray Caverns in themselves 
justify a pilgrimage to the valley of the Shenandoah. To 
the habitual tourist who has become surfeited with the 
'wonders of the world' they offer a delightful novelty; and 
the student of historic lore — who wishes for the moment to 
turn aside from an analysis of men and their finite accom- 
lilishments — will find therein an opportunity for thoughtful 
and reverent contemplation upon the handiwork of 'The 
Great Incomprehensible'. 

But to 'get back to earth'. Washington, having ably 
accomplished his initial enterprise, and having done his 
work in a manner highly satisfactory to his employer, was 
soon called upon to execute similar surveys for other wealthy 
land-owners. Thus he was engaged for the next two years 
and a half. - * 

In the summer of 1749 he obtained the appointment of 
public surveyor for Orange County, a position carrying with 
it an annuity of about one hundred pounds sterling, — 
quite a considerable income for a young man in those days 
when ready money was a scarce article in the colonies. 
Washington seems always to have been of a thrifty disposi- 
tion and prudent in his expenditures ; one who knew how to 
make his earnings count. Land was then more plentiful 
than cash, and there were many choice bargains in real estate 
to be had. Of the desirability of these investments young 
Washington, by reason of his surveying operations, soon be- 



54 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



came an excellent judge. Having unequaled opportunities 
for seeing the country, he was not slow in making shrewd 
purchases from time to time as his finances permitted. Thus 
he acquired several choice tracts 
of land for himself and also for his 
brother Lawrence, thereby laying 
the foundations of his inc'epenaent 
fortune. 

His subsequent field work led 
him still farther into the Blue 
Ridge and Allegheny mountains. 
In these boundless solitudes of his 





The 'joung surveyor' 

at work, and 

The 'Skyland' of the 

Blue Kidge Mountains 



native country he passed a long novitiate of hardship and 
exposure, yet came close to Nature in her grandest aspects, 
one day picking his way through dripping forests, the next 
reclining at eventide on some lonely slope watching the 
autumnal sun sink to rest behind the darkly silhouetted 
mountain-peaks. It would seem that these experiences, 
creative of moral courage and physical endurance, were the 
essentials necessary to the making of a man who was the 
pre-destined leader of men. 

Lord Fairfax continued to be his 'patron saint'. When 
that worthy baronet himself launched out into the wilder- 
ness and builded his rustic domicile of 'Greenway Court' on 
the very frontier but a few miles from Winchester, it was 
natural enough that Washington, ever welcome at the table 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 55 

of his lordship, should frequently avail himself of the prof- 
fered hospitality. 

Some among the more mature cronies cf Lord Fairfax 
may have questioned his wisdom in placing such implicit 
confidence in a mere boy. Indeed the work which his honor 
delegated to his young friend from time to time was 'a man's 
job' saddled upon a stripling. It may be that Fairfax him- 
self was, at the outset, somewhat dubious as to the outcome, 
but I fancy that he soon gauged the calibre of Washington 
with a nice degree of accuracy. I believe he realized what 
many men, unfortunately, fail to appreciate: that the 
achievements of youth are not to be despised. The boy in 
his 'teens measures, quite often, fully up to the standards of 
a man, minus only the keen judgment which comes in no 
other way than by bitter and dearly bought experience. And 
in the battle of life, — unless the man keeps pace with pass- 
ing years by an ever-widening vision, seeing its opportunities 
through the full-open lens of youth, — the youngster will 
invariably have the advantage of him because of his ever- 
lasting optimism. Even admitting the fact that 'Vouth is a 
delusion, maturity a struggle and old age a regret", let us 
continue to live in the blessed delusion. Purpose and a con- 
genial life-work will make the struggle a joyous one, and 
knock out the regret. 

'Greenway Court' seems to have been a favorite base of 
operations for young Washington, and here, as a temporary 
member of the Fairfax establishment, he resided off and on 
for a considerable period. There can be no doubt as to the 
pleasure and profit he derived from his continued associa- 
tion with the erratic old nobleman. The intervals of relaxa- 
tion between his rigorous expeditions were times of genuine 
luxury. Though far removed from the comforts and culture 
of city life, 'Greenway Court" had literally been made suf- 
ficient unto itself. The refined taste of its owner naturally 
demanded the best of everything. There were books galore, 
London periodicals -with more or less frequency, -fine furni- 



56 THE YOITTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

ture, (much of which was later acquired by Washington 
when master of Mount Vernon) — art treasures; in fact, all 
that the heart could wish to make life enjoyable and to while 
away the long evenings. 

From Washington's correspondence during these months 
we gather that he frequently accompanied his lordly patron 
upon fishing and hunting trips. It is evident that the latter 




LORD FAIRFAX, AND HIS 'OFFICE' AT GRI-:p:X\VAY COURT, 
Still existing near White Post, Virginia 

took a lively interest in his protege, while undoubtedly 
Washington made himself exceedingly companionable. His 
'bringing up' had been such as to fit him well for the ways of 
'genteel society'; he always appreciated 'class', and knew 
how to be deferential and respectful to those of superior 
station and greater age. These are the things which appeal 
strongly to aristocratic old folks, and it cannot be wondered 
that Washington, careful in his work and attentively cour- 



THE YOl TH IN THE WILDERNESS 57 

tecus in his personal intercourse with Lord Fairfax, made a 
very favorable impression to say the least. 

LTnquestionably this intimacy with one familiar with 
history and wise in the ways of the world did much toward 
the mental making cf Washington. It is interesting to recall 
that he always retained the high regard of Lord Fairfax, al- 
though their intimacy ended and their ways parted with the 
leginning of the Revolution, — Fairfax remaining loyal to 
the Crown until the final capitulation at Yorktown. Then, 
aged and disheartened, his desire for life gave place to 
deepest chagrin at the turn affairs had taken. He tcok to 
his bed in disgust and ere long passed away. But he was 
then past ninety and surely he had had little to complain of; 
his life had been long and eventful, and the rough places in 
the way had been smoothed by abundant means. Yet Lord 
Fairfax deserves the grateful remembrance of the American 
people if for no other reason than that he was the patron and 
benefactor of Washington. Washingtcn himself always 
Heeply realized his debt to the Fairfaxes, and through his 
efforts much of their property was subsequently saved frc m 
the general penalty of confiscation which fell upon all who 
had adherred to Great Britain during the struggle for inde- y^ 
pendence. 

It seems difficult to realize now that all cf the upper 
section of the Shenandoah valley was once 'Fairfax Land'. 
Bit by bit it has been cut up into small subdivisions ; the old 
family has become well nigh extinct, and to-day, so I am in- 
formed, not one acre remains in the possession of anyone 
bearing that historic name. Near the hamlet of White Post, 
Virginia, on the Norfolk and Western railway, may still be 
seen some scattered reminders of the 'Greenway Court' 
estate. Lord Fairfax' mansion, which was never much more 
than a series of spacious bungalows, has given place to a 
more modern farmhouse, which, standing back among the 
trees, is plainly visible from the passing trains. Much nearer 
the track is to be seen a small stone shantv, which is the 



58 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

original 'office building' used by Washington himself. It 
was here that many cf his early charts and surveys were 
drawn up. This diminutive building is a genuinely historic 
landmark which ought to be carefully preserved. The little 
shack is illustrative of a most interesting epoch in his career ; 
for it is one of the very few structures which we can posi- 
tively associate with the activities of his youthful years. 

The very name 'White Post' is reminiscent of the Fair- 
fax regime. A painted post, which has been renewed many 
times, stands to-day at a point where Lord Fairfax set up a 
similar conspicuous marker almost two centuries ago to 
guide travelers to his domicile in the woods. This white posi 
at the crossroads which formerly indicated the way to 
'Greenway Court' has now given its name to the community. 
During Washington's period of service under Lord Fair- 
fax, when he travelled up and down the hills and valleys cf 
Virginia, laden with level and transit, he became far more 
intimately acquainted with the wilderness than did his lord- 
ship himself. Truly remarkable opportunities for learning 
lessons directly from the bock of Nature were his. It was on 
one of his expeditions to the farther extremity cf the Shen- 
andoah Valley, where the James and North rivers meet, that 
he beheld for the first time the famous Natural Bridge, re- 
garded even to-day as one of the wonders of the world. An 
excursion to this widely advertised 'freak of nature' offers as 
fine a combination of the scenic and historic trip as heart 
could desire. Truth to tell, travel upon the railways of the 
south is somewhat slow, particularly was this so under the 
curtailed schedules of war-time, and the trip to Natural 
Bridge is a long one at best. Nevertheless the results ob- 
tained well repay for any inconvenience experienced en 
route to 'the heart of the Blue Ridge'. 

The Natural Bridge is situated within the boundaries 
of a privately owned reservation, the 'scenic privileges' being 
controlled by the management of the Natural Bridge Hotel. 
A kind of park has been created, embracing all the hills and 



THE Y(JI TH IN THE WILDERNESS 



59 



valleys in its immediate vicinity, through which drives and 
bridle-paths have been constructed in all directions. From 
the railway station, two miles distant, the omnibuses travel 
an up-hill road, each turn of the way disclosing an expand- 
ing panorama of hill succeeding hill. The far-away sum- 
mits, heavily wooded and clouded by increasing distance, be- 
come more and more deeply blue; until the traveler, enam- 
ored of the lovely prospect, cannot fail to appreciate that the 
long mountain ridge has been appropriately named. 

Perched high upon a little hilltop, amid the gloriously 
bracing atmosphere of the upland paradise, we find a great 
modern health and pleasure resort, which is frequented dur- 
ing both summer and winter. I can imagine no more de- 
lightful spot in which to spend a vacation for the benefit of 
jangled nerves or — which is more agreeable — a honeymoon. 
There are no snow-capped mountains here, cold and beauti- 
ful in the icy grandeur of death; it is rather a region of 
youth and hope, where heaven and earth are joined in ever- 
lasting wedlock with a golden ring of sunshine. It is a region 
where merely to live is a source cf unalloyed joy. It is God's 
own country. 

It is pleasant to remember that all this property once 
belonged to Thomas Jefferson, surely one above all others 
whose aesthetic soul could 
appreciate its beauty. Just 
before the Revolution it was 
given him by the royal grant 
of George the king. Monti- 
cello, his own country seat 
at Charlottesville, lies some 
fifty miles to the north-east, 
en the other side of the range. 
Jefferson in later years built 
a little cottage at Natural 
Bridge; with characteristic hospitality giving directions to 
his old negro custodian that one room was always to be re- 




Monticello, the home of .Jefferson, at 
Charlottesvil'e, Va. 



60 



THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS 



served for the entertainment of strangers. Somehow the 
great and palatial hotel of the present day seems to extend 
to the visitor much the same cordial welcome. There is a 
myriad of spacious balconies where one may lounge around 
and bask in the sunhine, the cuisine is excellent, and the 
stables are well stocked. If you are driven indoors by in- 
clement weather, which — I suppose — occasionally invades 
even so lovely a 
spot as this, you 
will find a great 
'c o m f V -room', 
with books i n 
profusion, easy 
chairs galore, 
and one of those 
famous open 
fires before 
which to toast 
your toes in 
solid comfort. 

As to the fam- 
ous bridge itself, 
it is titanic in its 
proportions, ris- 
ing to a height 
of some 215 feet 
above the bed of 
C e d a r Creek, 
spanning the 
narrow canyon 
with a solid and the natural bridge 

l")onderous arch of stone forty feet in perpendicular thickness 
and one hundred feet in breadth. A public highway crosses 
the bridge, being the only means of passage for wagons with- 
in a mile distance either up or down stream. The creek, 
which for some distance has traversed a course between 




THE YOX^TH IN THE WILDERNESS 61 

rocky slopes, here narrows down to a width of eighty or 
ninety feet as if to worm its way between the precipitous 
ledges of the deep gorge, while — far above — tlie natural roof. 
tree-grown and covered with straggling bushes, seems frown- 
ing ominously as if in continual warning of impending 
calamity. 

Jefferson was of the opinion that the view from this 
dizzy and dangerous parapet was "painful and intolerable", 
while that from below w^as "delightful in an equal extreme". 
Most visiters will be inclined to agree with him. 

The pathway to the foot of the bridge descends beside a 
tumbling brook, down a deep fissure in the mountain over- 
hung by grand old arbor-vitae trees, one of which has re- 
cently fallen across the stream. Turning down a flight of 
steps cut into the reck, the rambler soon finds himself beside 
the larger and swifter creek with the canyon walls rising ab- 
ruptly to the right and left of hun. The glen which borders 
the watercourse is green with shrubbery; violets are here — 
pale and modest — with some unfamiliar little flowers like 
tiny white crocuses, peeping out to catch the sun, which — 
when high in the meridian — penetrates into their sequestered 
haunt. So charming is nature under-foot that one forgets 
for a time to look aloft. Then of a sudden the happy song of 
a bobolink sounds startlingly near ; we raise our eyes and see, 
unexpected and astounding, the great bridge itself looming 
up scarcely fifty yards away. Bright with the glow of morn- 
ing, the eastern face of the giant monolith seems stupend- 
ously high, light and ethereal, while its great shadow, dark 
and forbidding, is cast far back and beyond among the rocks 
and trees of the upper canyon. 

Every visitor, doubtless, passes beneath the rugged 
span, fcr an easy trail runs beside the capricious and noisy 
stream. At one time this somewhat feeble rivulet may have 
been a raging river, at which distant age it might truly have 
required bridging; but now — like an aged man — it has lost 
its former vigor and fallen into the seventh age of decrepi- 



62 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



tilde. The bridge, by comparison, has grown in mightiness 
with the subsidence of the waters, and the stranger, craning; 
his neck in open-mouthed admiration, gazes upward in as- 
tonished contemplation. Frcm the massive arch above tiny 
drops of water are constantly falling. The traveler as he' 
watches the silver drippings caught by the gentle breeze and 
carried far out of their perpendicular course, is prone to won- 
der when the great roof itself is going to drop, fervently hop- 
ing that this untoward event may not be hastened by his 
own intrusive presence. 

Washington, at the time of his visit to this amazing 
phenomenon, had not yet progressed so far upon the road to 
mimortality that 
he was above the 
ambition to win 
'enduring' fame 
by the carving of 
initials in con- 
s p i c i u s and 
outlandish pla- 
ces. With a boy- 
like spirit of ad- 
venture, he is re- 
puted to have 
clambered, b y 
some means or 
other, high up 
the side of the 
rocky escarp- 
ment and there- 
on made h i s 
mark in letters 
bold and tall. 
Whether he revisited the spot in later life we do not know. 
I sought in vain for the initials 'G. W.' or the name 
'GEORGE WASHINGTON', Said to be Still discernible about 




THE 'LACE WATERFALL 



NATURAL BRIDGE, VA. 



THE YOIT^H IN THE WILDERNESS 63 

twenty-five feet above the bed of the stream on the west 
side. Indeed the walls of rock are seamed and fissured to 
such an extent that one imagines he sees many curiously 
carved letters aiid symbols, much abraded and weather- 
worn. But down near the path there are many more 
recent inscriptions which are clearly legible, a.mong others 
the name of Audubon, the famous naturalist, a truly great 
.man in his particular field of endeavor. 

Tradition has repeatedly affirmed tfiat the chiselings of 
Washington led all the rest; apparently he held the record, 
as it were, of being the most intrepid wall cli2nber. In 1818, 
however, this distinction was surrendered to James Piper of 
Washington College, who performed the daring — and what 
w^as long thought to be impossible — feat of climbhig from 
the foot cf the abutment to the top of the arch, an exploit 
so dangerous that no one has since made the mad attempt 
to repeat it. 

During the Revolutionary War the French organized 
two expeditions to visit this famous natural bridge. From 
their measurements and diagrams a picture was made in 
Paris which for fifty years or more was widely copied. Take 
up any old atlas and you will most likely find some sort of 
crude representation cf this singular bit of Nature's handi- 
v/ork. For this reason, I suppose, it has for most cf us the 
familiarity of an old acquaintance, and' its colossal outlines 
are pictured in the mind of every school-boy. 

Some geologists imagine that, long years ago, the entire 
formation beyond the bridge to the north was cave-like, 
with a subterranean river emerging to the light of day near 
the present arch. They conjecture that the 'roof of the cave 
crumbled, bit by bit, and that the present bridge remains the 
sole surviving fragment of a. great horizontal bed of lime- 
stone rock which covered the entire gorge, the stream itself 
working downwards through the eons of time — gradually en- 
larging and elongating its outlet. 

Additional bits of charming scenic beauty reward the 



64 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

tourist who continues his wanderings up the glen to the 
farthest limits of the canyon, where the shimmering 'Lace 
Waterfall' tumbles down a rocky stairway, a mysterious lit- 
tle 'Lost River' emerges from the bowels of the mountain, 
and a. cavernous opening — known as the 'Saltpetre Mine' — 
yawns beneath the face of a towering rock. The latter site, 
during Civil War days, is said to have afforded a much 
needed ingredient in the process of powder-making for the 
hard-put Confederates; traces of the long-abandoned work- 
ings being still noticeable. 

More than likely, the pilgrim to Natural Bridge will 
seat himself beneath one of the rustic arbors in the glen and 
indite a few picture postals to the friends at heme, after 
v/hich he will saunter back to the hotel for luncheon, leaving 
his cards at the general store and post-office. If so, let him 
glance stealthily through the window of the 'post office' a 
moment after his supposed departure. He will probably see 
the postmaster, with spectacles balanced on the end of his 
nose, carefully perusing his missives before cancelling the 
stamps. This circumstance may call to mind another of 
those worthy admonitions committed to memory by the boy 
Washington: "Come not near the books or writings of any- 
one so as to read them — unless desired, also, look not nigh 
when another is writing a letter," Enough said. 

It is possible to continue the journey from Natural 
Bridge to the south and 'take in' further bits of historic ter- 
ritory which are intimately associated with the surveying 
days of Washington's career. To any of my readers who 
may care to follow the trail in this direction let me recom- 
mend the trip to Lynchburg, Va. In reality it is a ride along 
the upper reaches of the James River, which passes between 
rugged defiles of the Blue Ridge mountains. The scenery is 
superbly beautiful. The Chesepeake and Ohio Railway fol- 
lows for the most part the right of way of the long aband- 
oned James River and Kanawha Canal, traces of which — in 
the shape of ruined masonry and the remains of disused 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 65 

locks — are seen at frequently recurring intervals between 
the tracks and the river. George Washington was the first 
president of the company operating this artificial waterway, 
and he it was who executed the preliminary surveys. 

Fringed with budding willows, venerable sycamores and 
a touch cf dark green laurel, the James passes through alter- 
nating farm and wilderness. Spring had come when I 
passed this way, and with it brought a wealth of pink blos- 
soms for the peach trees of the meadow-land and a ruddy 
violet tinge for the shrubbery which interspersed the ever- 
green hemlocks of the slopes. But the previous night had 
been a chilly backslider, and morning found a heavy frost 



^ 


V ^''"'^'^'^^ttM 


Mi 


4 


■ 


SET ~ 


ppetfS 




■M 


g 


^^ 




■ 


m 


1 



ALONG THE JAMES RIVER, NORTH OF LYNCHBURG. 

clinging to the branches. Our conductor, much concerned 
lest the buds had been 'nipped', made it his business to in- 
vestigate, and — while the train was halted for a few mo- 
ments at an out-of-the-way water-tower, hopped over a 
fence into an orchard in order to ascertain for himself the 
extent of the damage. Little touches of 'local color' like 
this well illustrate the temperament cf the South. If you 
are seeking for bits of the unique, you will assuredly find 
them here. 

Few bridges span the James: instead, at recognized points 



66 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

of crossing, you may see old flat-bottcined ferry boats for 
the convenience of pedestrians and vehicles; equipped with 
overhead wire ropes running from bank to bank to assist the 
boatsmen in stemming the rapidly flowing current. At the 
numerous little clearings in the hill-encircled valleys, old 
houses and white-washed log-cabins remind the traveler of 
those early settler days when the valley of the James and 
its tributaries was the common ground of Indian and pale- 
face. Now the family 'punt', propelled by means of long 
poles, has forever replaced the log canoe of the native sav- 
age, and the freckled-faced boy with his delightful drawl — 
who with hands thrust deeply into his pockets curiously 
watches the trains roll by — has dispossessed the dark- 
skinned followers of Powhattan. 

These out-of-the-way regions were tolerably well known 
to young Washington, who, in the course of his wilderness 
explorations, repeatedly followed the windings of the James. 
Neither is this locality devoid of Revolutionary history. 
When Cornwallis sought to over-run Virginia, little skirm- 
ishes covering a wide area took place between scattered 
bands of the opposing forces. Many an old house here- 
about could relate interesting yarns of patriot refugee and 
scouting dragoon. General Tarleton. particularly, loved to 
scour the country ; making the confiscation of any and every 
good saddle horse upon which he could lay hands a special 
and profitable 'side line'. 

Lynchburg, the city of to-day, W'hile interesting and en- 
terprising, has no bearing upon the story of Washington, 
and the traveler has the choice either of pushing on to Rich- 
mond, where he may pick up the thread of the story at a 
more advanced chapter, or of returning through the moun- 
tains back to the counties of Stafford and Fairfax to follow- 
in logical sequence the events which now come thick and 
fast in the biography of the young surveyor. 

During the period when George Washington had been 
earning his daily bread in the rough and ready routine of 



THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS 



67 



the wilderness, his brother Lawrence had also been making- 
headway. Besides his work of developing the resources of 
Mount Vernon, he was now ably representing his constitu- 
ents in the Virginia House of Burgesses, giving considerable 
attention to military matters, and — incidentally — keeping 
his eyes open for an opportunity to advance the prospects 
of his younger brother when the time was ripe. 

As to young George Fairfax, he too had been improv- 
ing the opportunities, and had now become a man of family, 
having been unit- 
ed in marriage to 
a Tvliss Sally Cary 
of Williamsburg. 
George Washing- 
ton himself seems 
t o have enter- 
tained a high re- 
gard for the new- 
ly acquired life- 
partner of his 
friend. We know 
that he always re- 
garded M u n t 
Vernon as his home when not 'on the trail' or sojourning at 
'Greenway Court'; and we also gather from contemporary 
history that he continued to be a frequent visitor at 'Bel- 
voir', being exceedingly popular with all the members of 
the Potomac household and the younger set of Fairfaxes. 
This friendship continued for many long years. Some 
writers have gone so far as to intimate that young Wash- 
ington himself would not have been averse to marrying the 
charming Sally. But though young Fairfax had captured 
the prize they continued to be fast friends. Long after the 
Revolution, when, through war's vicissitudes, Mrs. Fairfax 
was an expatriated resident in Great Britain, we find Presi- 
dent Washington still carrying on a cordial correspondence 




Old log cabin near Berryville. Va , used by Washington 
when in the service of Lord Fairfax 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



>vith her, casting back wistful thoughts to the times gone by 
forever. 

Young Washington soon came to be regarded with more 
than usual esteem, not merely by his intimate friends, with 
whom he was thrown in every-day contact, but by the king'"^; 
representative at Williamsburg. There shortly came lo him 
an appointment, bear 



the 



of 



:ng tne signature 
Governor Dinwiddle, 
which was well suited 
to his military propen- 
sities. In 1751 he 
w a s commissioned 
major of militia, be- 
ing one of four adju- 
tant generals, whose 
duties at the outset 
were practically those 
of high class recruiting 
officers. Aire a d y 
o m i n u s rumblings 
were heard from be- 
yond the Alleghenys, 
where the French 
were busily pushing 
their w^ay down the 
Ohio to the fertile 
lands of the Mississip- 
pi. Inevitably the riv- 
al influences must soon 
clash, and Virginia 




Lock hewn in solid rock under direction of George Wash- 
ington, at Great Falls, Va., — 14 miles above Washington 
City, on the line of the Great Falls and Old Dominion 
Railway. Among other engineering feats, he here built a 
canal around the falls of the Potomac. Of the three locks 
used in its construction, the one cut out of the rock is 
illustrated. 



was bestirring herself for an expected campaign in what was 
then the far W^est. For Washington the days of surveying 
were ended. 

While this appointment was merited, it is cjuite evi- 
dent that Washington was not wdthout considerable 'person- 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 69 

al influence' at the seat of government. At this time his 
father's life-long friend. Colonel William Fairfax, was the 
presiding officer of the xA.ssembly, while young George Fair- 
fax and his brother Lawrence were both members of the 
same august body. Surely this particular clan of Virginia 
planters was well represented, and it seems only natural 
that, when the political 'plum tree' was to be shaken and 
favors were to be distributed, their promising young kinsman 
was possessed of sufficient 'backing' to secure recognition. 

The new responsibility, bestowed 'in the name of the 
Crown', was to Washington a highly prized distinction, for 
at this time, be it bcrne in mind, all Virginians were true 
and loyal British subjects. In order properly to "inspect 
and exercise the militia" he deemed it expedient to fit him- 
self for leadership. So, ere long, we see him receiving in- 
struction in military tactics and practicing the use of the 
sword with a pair of old swash-buckling soldiers of fortune, 
of whcm, at this time, there were many in Virginia. We 
also find the newly appointed major delving into the intric- 
acies of war with his usual spirit of wholeheartedness. While 
it may have been 'pull' which secured his appointment, he 
was nevertheless determined to give value; he wanted to be 
no mere inactive 'hanger on'. 

But unforeseen circumstances were destined once again 
temporarily to disconcert his plans, and the military epoch 
in his career was to be deferred yet a little while longer. 

Lawrence, although making a brave effort to keep in the 
harness, had for months realized that he was losing ground. 
The condition of his health — after years of disquieting 
symptoms — suddenly became alarmingly worse. Then, even 
as in our day, a 'change of climate' was believed to offer the 
possibility of 'saving grace' for those suffering from pulmon- 
ary affections, and for Lawrence — as a last resort — travel 
was prescribed. Quite naturally he turned to George for 
strength and companionship, and when Barbados was de- 
cided upon it was arranged that together they should sail 



70 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 




NATIVE HUT, BARBADOS 

from Virginia for the West Indies. 

They left in September of 1751. To-day steamers of 
almost transatlantic elegance make the run to this fertile 
and lovely tropical island in six days: then it was a matter 
of five weeks more or less, depending on wind and weather. 
It would seem that so protracted a voyage, tossed about on 
a small sailing vessel, would be a trying experience for an 
invalid; yet with hope of ultimate recovery for a stimulant 
almost anything is endurable. Whether George Washing- 
ton was a 'good sailor' we do not know ; he was at any rate 
experiencing a touch of the naval career which had — only a 
fews years previously, — been denied him, and, quite likely, 
he enjoyed the novelty, — for a time at least. 

Washington never visited Europe: this was his first and 
only journey beyond the shores of his native land. From 
the varied entries in the journal which he kept we cannot 
doubt that he saw all that w^as to be seen and jotted it down 
in his little book with the intention of profiting thereby. 

Barbados is truly a tiny world in itself, rich in the 
curious and unusual sights and scenes of a foreign clime; 
lying lazily in the sunshine of the tropic sea. It is much 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



71 



nearer South America than to our own continent, being 
close to Trinidad. The most southerly of the Windward 
Islands, Barbados lies upon the outer fringe of the Carib- 
bean archipelago. Few books of travel enlighten the reader 
as to this remote corner of the West Indies, to visit which 
it is necessary to skirt almost the entire group of the 'Lesser 
Antilles'. A short stop-over privilege is afforded by some 
of the United Fruit Company's tourist steamers, and Bridge- 
town, which is the only place of importance on the island, 




Hiidgetown Harbor, Barbados, showing wharf, pier lu:'.d and tiitrance to inner basin 

well deserves inspection. Yet not one in a thousand among 
the passengers who sit beneath the awnings of the great 
white ships, which at intervals enter the harbor, thinks of 
associating this palm-girt village with the eventful career of 
George Washington. 

The island has been in British possession since 1625; it 
has at present a population of something like 200,000, the 
larger portion of whom are negroes and mulattoes. In size 
it has nearly the proportions of the Isle of Wight, and is en- 
compassed by coral reefs, while its interior presents a wide 
variety of scenery — beautiful with fronded palms and radi- 
ant with the gaudy bird and insect life common to tropical 
regions. The climate is equable and free from miasma; for 



72 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

this reason the physicians had entertained hopes that a brief 
residence here might be beneficial to Lawrence Washington ; 
and indeed it seemed at first that their expectations were 
likely to be realized. 

Somewhere upon the low hillsides near Bridgetown, 
which is pleasantly situated upon the open roadstead of 
Carlyle Bay, our wanderers succeeded in obtaining the lease 
of a commodious dwelling, although according to George's 
memorandum, they were forced to pay liberally for their 
accommodations. Fortunately there were many English- 
men of position then residing on the island, and most of 
them proved themselves exceedingly kind and hospitable to 
the young Virginians. Without stint the diary of the young- 
er of the travelers gives praise to their courtesy, and ex- 
presses admiration for the place of sojourn. 

Yet notwithstanding the pleasures incident to the social 
gatherings of the elite of Bridgetown — to which, by reason 
of their own standing, they were cordially welcomed; and 
the diversion afforded by occasional evenings at the theatre 
— where George, for the first time, witnessed a dramatic per- 
formance, — time soon began to drag heavily for the invalid 
and his companion. The enervating languor of the tropics 
often has a depressing effect upon those coming from a 
northern clime. I am told that a long-continued residence 
in the W^est Indies will, in a short time, transform a hust- 
ling New York businessman into a lethargic idler. Ambition 
does not seem to flourish in any equatorial region : it is for 
this reason, I suppose, that the really big things in the 
world of accomplishment come from the temperate zones, 
where a certain amount of physical discomfort goads us on 
to energetic effort. 

Young Washington himself marveled at the shiftless- 
ness displayed even by the better class of Barbadians. Him- 
self a disciple of thrift, he failed to understand why, in a 
country where nature was well nigh all-provident, there 
should be evidences of decay and financial embarrassment. 



THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS 



73 



Yet the people of the island are to-tlay, and always have 
been, distinctly proud of their beautiful comer of the earth, 
and firmly believe that no place in the whole world can com- 
pare with it. Their hope is that at death heaven will be an- 
other Barbados. 

Shortly after the brothers had become settled in their 
temporary quarters George fell a victim to the small-pox, 




Broad Street, Bridgetown, and the Nelson 

monument, commemorating the visit of that 

distinguished Admiral in 1805 

whereupon it was Lawrence's 
turn to play the part cf nurse, 
which, we may be quite sure, 
he did with the utmjst fideli- 
ty and solicitude. Owing to his 
devotion and the best of care 
and attention, the sufferer 
was up and around again 
after but three weeks on the ' 
sick list. His face, however, remained slightly pock-marked 
for the remainder of his life, but luckily not to such an ex- 
tent as to detract seriously from the good looks of his youth 



74 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

or the dignity of his more mature years. 

The visitor to Barbados will find little that he can posi- 
tively link up with the short residence here of the Washing- 
tons. Twice since 1751 has Bridgetown been devastated 
by fire. Still, the panorama of sea and sky and gently ter- 
raced gardens which we see to-day, must be nearly the same 
as that which refreshed the eyes of the devoted comrades, 
while the roofs of the town as seen from the hillside, with 
the masts of the shipping in the harbor, are scarcely more 
numerous than of yore. At least one group of buildings is 
historic in view of the fact that they existed in the time of 
Washington ; — those comprising Codrington College, found- 
ed in 1741, and since then the leading educational institution 
on the island. 

Bridgetown, as the capital of Barbados, is the seat of 
the resident governor, and possesses at least two good hotels. 
Comfortably quartered at the old 'Marine' and making daily 
excursions into the interior, a week or more may be most 
enjoyably spent on the island. A longer residence would, I 
think, prove quite monotonous, unless one was permanently 
settled here with a complete family circle upon a rural 
estate away up in the hills. Of late, conditions have im- 
proved on the island, which now offers excellent commercial 
possibilities. The chief export, of course, is sugar. Fruits 
there are in abundance, and in the most delicious variety; 
the same perfection and flavor which so appealed to Wash- 
ington may be enjoyed to-day, for the island is a veritable 
garden spot. The sea bathing, too, is excellent. Yet fully to 
appreciate the charm of Barbados, one must penetrate into 
its jungles, where the cane huts, thatch-roofed and flimsy, 
shelter the purely native element of the inhabitants. 

In the town English names are everywhere in evidence. 
There is Tudor Street, for instance, quite a lively thorough- 
fare on a Saturday or market day ; while in Trafalgar Square 
we find a Nelson monument, commemorating a flying visit 
of the great admiral in 1805. Queen's Park affords a delight- 



THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 



/o 



ful place of evening promenade for the townsfolk, while the 
luxurious Savannah Club may be accounted a present-day 
successor to the 'Beafsteak and Tripe' organization, about 
which young Washington waxed ekquent. From Mt. Hiila- 
by, the highest point of land on the island, practically the 
whole colony may be viewed in its entirety. 

But loneliness would make even paradise seem forlorn. 
Just as every traveler longs for absent dear ones and pines 
for home, so the thoughts of Lawrence Washington turned 
to Mount A^rnon. He soon determined to move a little 
nearer to the place of his heart's affections, so, in December, 
he dispatched George to Virginia with instructions to bring 



his young wife to 
rendezvous he pro- 
without any further 
The conclusion 
well known. George 
at the Potomac 




Bermuda, to which 

posed to proceed 

delay. 

of the chapter is 

Washington arrived 

homestead on the 




THE SAVAXXAH CLUB, BRIDGETOWX, BARBADOS 

first of February, 1752. Lawrence journeyed to Bermuda 
in March, but, despairing of ultimate recovery, he decided 
to utilize his remaining strength and push for home before 
the end. 

And so it came about that on the 26th of July, in the 
34th year of his age, the first master of Mount Vernon 
passed out from the affairs of earth under his own beloved 
roof, attended to the borders of shadow-land by the brother 
whom he had idolized and the wife of his choice, who, for a 



76 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 

few short years had shared his sorrows and his joys. In 
keeping with the affectionate regard which had actuated 
him in all his relations with his brother, Lawrence stipulated 
in his will that George should continue to reside at Mount 
Vernon, as though confident, with such a strong protector at 
hand, that his widow and their little daughter might be se- 
cure in their possessions and peace of mind. And George 
Washington, now in his twenty-first year, — a man in age, 
intellect and integrity, proved true to his trust. 




OF THE 



Block House sti'.l standing at Pittgburgh, Pa. 

erected by Col. Henry Boquet, in 1764, 

on the site of old Fort Duquesne 



^T'^HLS is to be a chapter of love and war, in both of which 
LV ^ all-absorbing games everything is fair. Herein we 
shall see our ''youth in the wilderness" develop into an 
ardent courtier and a redoubtable commander. Perhaps it 
were better to speak first of the sterner duties which filled 
the life of Washington from 1752 to the beginning of the 
Revolution, and then to touch more briefly upon the senti- 
mental and romantic 'side issues' which from time to time 
diverted his worship from the stoic shrine of Mars to the 
flower-bedecked altar of Venus. 

Washington participated in four separate and distinct 
expeditions over the mountains into the country of the 
French; at first in 1753, operating as a sort of confidential 
messenger; then actively engaging in the two disastrous 
military enterprises of 1754 and 1755; and finally, — three 
years later, — being co-leader with General Forbes in the 
last and successful attempt against the outposts of the 
enemy. 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



As to his love affairs, there were at least three earnest 
attachments of which contemporary history has mac'.e men- 
tion and we are warranted in conjecturing that there were 
a score of other lia'.sons of secondar}^ and fleeting import- 
ance. 

Williamsburg was. naturally, the central point of \'ir- 
ginia's activities in the 'Seven Years War' against the 
Erench. Here Governor Dinwiddle resided, and here the 
provincial as:embly held its stated sittings. In 1753 the 
subject of French aggression on the frontier was upperm:st 
in the mind and conversation of her citi-ens. Both France 
and Britain laid claim to the Ohio Valley from the lal es to 
the Mississippi; the former by reason of the explorations cf 
La Salle, the latter because of coastal discovery and royal 
grants which were supposed to extend over and across the 
mountains. By 1750 the French, who 
v^^ere active in their determination to 
establish ownership by actual tenan- 
cy , had sprinkled a few settlers all the 
U"ay from Canada to Louisiana and 
were preparing to defend their claims 
by a chain of forts scattered alcng 
the 'boundary' from Niagara to the 
'forks of the Ohio'. The mastery cf 
this river seems indeed to have been 
regarded by both the French and 
English leaders as the vital issue, up- 
on the maintenance of which they 
were equally determined. 

The attitude of the Indians in this international con- 
troversy which involved the partition of their rightful do- 
main was, to my mind, quite natural. While they 'took 
sides' from time to time as expediency dictated, they re- 
garded both of the contestants as quarrelsome intruders, 
and were quite willing to participate in any military opera- 
tions which gave promise of lessening the percentage of 'pale 




A Youthful I'ciiti.iit ul W .ivhii-gton 
It is clainKd that thib likeiuss was 
painted in 1777 by Charles Wilson 
Peak', but it portrays him at 25 
more nearly than at 45 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



79 




OLD BRUTOX PARISH CHURCH. WILLI VMSBTRa 

faces' and of decorating the ridge poles of their ledges with 
scalps. Regardless of leadership, their valued services were 
available to whomsoever offered the greater inducements; 
as it transpired, the French 'got there first'. 

Yet even the redskins did not favor the idea of a chain 
of fortifications along their great rivers. In April, 1753, 
when they gathered in council at Logstown on the Ohio, a 
howl of protest was raised and a warrior was dispatched to 
Niagara to appeal to the French commandant at that point. 
Despite the usual conciliatory policy of the French toward 
the aborigines, their appeal — in this instance — was unavail- 
ing. 

In the summer of the same year the British colonial 
authorities bestirred themselves, venting a shnilar remon- 
strance and demanding, moreover, the complete withdrawal 
of the French forces stationed on the Ohio. Their first 



80 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

emissary, one Capt. Frost, seems to have lost his ccurage, for 
he turned back and came again to Wilhamsburg having ac- 
complished nothing. Governor Dinwidclie, stucborn Scotch- 
man that he was, immediately determined to find a mere 
courageous messenger, and forthwith the youthful Wash- 
ington, on the strength of the prestige he had acquired by 
previous experience in the wilderness, was summoned to 
Williamsburg and shortly commissioned to be the bearer 
of this summary message of warning. At the same time — so 
his instructions read — he was to ascertain just what the 
enemy was attempting toward the fulfillment of his cher- 
ished scheme. 

Before following Washington over the Icng mountain 
trail, we may as well spend a few hours at Williamsburg. 
To-day it is a place 
essentially appropri- 
ate for quiet reverie, 
but in 1750 or there- 
abouts, when at the 
heyday of its exist- 
ence, it was a bust- 
ling town, a rendez- 
vous for the elite of 

the 'Old Dominion'. Duke of Glomestfr street, 

Since 1698 it had wiiuamsburg 

been the capital of the province; all the pomp of Virginia 
chivalry centered here. In magnificence and formality of 
function it is said to have been a small edition of the Court 
of St. James. Officials lived in gay mansions and traveled 
in gallant equipages. Society people dressed with great 
elegance. The theatre was a favorite diversion. 

But under all this ran a current of seriousness. At Wil- 
liam and Mary College, founded in 1691, some of the most 
famous men of the future republic were studying. The 
present day visitor to Williamsburg will usually find an un- 
occupied bench beside the weather-worn statue of 'Lord 




IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



81 



Botetourt' in the centre of the college campus. If he will 
pause for a moment beneath the shadow of this monument 
to one of the best beloved of the colonial viceroys, — who 
immediately succeeded Dinwiddle — and remember that this 
unassuming old college has been the ahna mater of seven- 
teen governors, twelve cabinet ministers and fcur presi- 
dents of the United States, — there will descend upon him a 
spirit of appreciative reverence. Only to Harvard does this 



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College of William and Mary, \Villiam>lnirg. Va. 



(Photo by K. P. Griffith) 



venerable institution of learning yield the precedence of 
seniority. Jefferson, Monroe, Madison and Tyler were all 
students here in their youthful days, and doubtless often 
lingered around this same old pedestal, while Washington 
himself — who became one of the chancellors of the institu- 
tion in later years, — must have cultivated at least a passing 
acquaintance with this benevolent, white robed figure. 

Along the Duke of Gloucester Street, the main thor- 
oughfare of this somnolent town, are a score of fine old 
houses, each of which is haimted bv memories of one or more 



82 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

of the distinguished Virginians of the eighteenth century. 
This dignified avenue is a mile in length and straight as a 
plumb line, running directly from the college gates to a spot 
at the farther extremity of the village, where once stood the 
colonial capitol of the province. 

We have but to recall the fact that every one of the 
'show places' of modern Williamsburg was well known to 
Washington and that most of them are in some way asso- 
ciated with thirty years of his social and political life, fully 
to appreciate the charm of this ancient municipality, and 
its just claims to recognition on the pages of American his- 
tory. The old Court House, still remaining, is said — like so 
many other Virginia edifices of that period — to have been 
designed by Sir Christopher Wren, the architect cf St. Paul's 
Cathedral in London; while the far-famed Bruton Parish 
Church boasts the distinction of being one of the oldest 
houses of worship in America. 

If you are a cold, matter-of-fact person, ycu may be 
oppressed by the unmistakable atmosphere of loneliness 
which steals over many visitors to this unique city of the 
past. You will wonder what the people of Williamsburg do 
for a livehhood, for there is a noticeable absence of manu- 
facturing or commercial establishments. The utter silence 
of the p'ace — for even the wagons move noiselessly over the 
dirt roads — may 'get on your nerves', in which event you 
are likely to jump aboard the first train for Richmond and 
go away bitterly disappointed. 

But if, on the other hand, you love history and revel in 
the spiritual companionship of our worthy forefathers, old 
Williamsburg will afford you many congenial experiences. 
Here may be found any number cf vine-covered garden 
walls over which we peer half-reverently as though fearing 
to trespass upon the re-enactment of some old-time episode 
of courtship, and several picturesque graveyards wherein are 
crumbling stones and mysterious epitaphs inviting reverent 
meditation. Yet I have proof that some intensely prac- 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWX 



83 



tical men can enjoy occasional historic rambles, for among 
my possessions I cherish an autographed pencil sketch of 
one of the old tombs in the Brutcn churchyard, made by 
none other than Mr. Cass Gilbert, the architect of the tower- 
ing 'Woolworth Building', New Ycrk City. 

October 30th, 1753 — the very day upon which Wash- 
ington received his ambassadorial commission from the gov- 
ernor — saw him start out for Fredericksburg. Here the 
young envoy pickerl up 
Jacob Van Braam, his 
former fencing master, 
v.ho — while ostensibly 
engaged to act as 'offi- 
cial interpreter' — might 
be expected to come in 
handy as an 'expert 
swordsman' shculd fu- 
ture events take an un- 
pleasant turn. Arriving 
at Alexandria, Wash- 
ington laid in a stock 
o f provisions, a n d 
then pushed on with all 
speed to Winchester, 
then but an outpost in 
the valley of the Shen- 
andoah. 

The paths across 
the Blue Ridge mountains, originally broken by the Indians, 
were — for the most part — those followed by the early set- 
tlers and pioneers who dared to brave the dangers of the 
wilderness. Often they conformed to the round-about wind- 
ings of the water courses; at other times, when the physical 
features of the region were favorable, they struck off through 
the open country, passing the mountains through the natur- 
al defiles. Washington, in the course of his westward jour- 




.Statue of Lord Botetourt adorning the campus of 

Wil iam and Mary College, the res-idence of the 

president seen in the backgrQ.und 



84 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

neys, is presumed to have favored the route leading through 
Ashby's Gap, which led him near to the hospitable country 
seat of Lord Fairfax, although he may occasionally have 
taken the northerly road through Berryville. The famous 
Winchester Pike was then "the newly opened road from 
Winchester", which the young surveyor had presumably 
helped to lay out, fcr it traversed the length of one of Lord 
Fairfax' choicest valleys. 




Old Toll Gate, Winchester Pike, not far from Harper's Ferry, W. Va. Here 

tribute is still extorted after the manner of the 'lobber barons' of the middle 

ages. A story is also to'.d to the effect that at this point an implacable 

woman held up an entire division of Sheridan's troopers during Civil 

AVar days 

Washington, upon his first expedition "in the service 
of the Crown", penetrated farther northward than during 
any of his subsequent campaigns or excursions. "Fort Ven- 
ango", his original objective, was situated near the present 
enterprising city of Franklin, in the great Pennsylvania oil 
belt; while "Fort Boeuf" — the headquarters of St. Pierre, 
the French commandant, to which outpost he was com- 
pelled to extend his journey by a four days' march — was 
less than twenty miles from Lake Erie. The present ham- 
let of Leboeuf, in Erie County, recalls its ancient site, which 
has been localized in the nearby village of Water ford. 

To my knowledge, there is no structure now standing, 
west of Winchester, which existed at the time of Washing- 
ton's initial trip to the Ohio. In many instances the old 
Indian and colonial names of the pioneer settlements still 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



85 



cling to the modern cities and towns which have succeeded 
them, but in other cases we find that the communities of 
our day have assumed new names in keeping with their 




86 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

progress, and have bequeathed their historic titles to ad- 
joining villages or suburbs. Therefore one has a chance of 
being deceived even as regards precise localities. 

It is interesting indeed to compare a modern map with 
some of the old surveys cf this far-distant period. — (several 
of which — a: important and informative documents bear- 
ing on the 'French War' — are still preserved in the archives 
of the British Museum) — in an endeavor to pick cut seme 
of the ancient localities and names, and to determine their 
modern equivalents. Of course we find the familiar Will's 
Creek, besides the 'Great' and 'Little' Crossings, Green 
Spring, Savage River, Meadow Run, Turtle Creek and a 
score of others still in the nomenclature of present-flay 
geography. Having survived this long, these names will, 
I suppose, continue to perpetuate the early history of this 
region as long as America endures. 

No one who has not himself covered the distance be- 
tween Williamsburg and Pittsburgh can begin to appreciate 
the magnitude of the undertaking so successfully carried 
out by the youthful surveyor. Even after making the trip 
in the luxurious elegance of a Pullman, which has swiflly 




Wills Creek, from Br.Uimore St. Bridge — Cumberland, Md. 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 87 

traversed the iron-shod way, cut-around and tunneled 
through the wooded heights of the Alleghenys, you feel 
that the journey has been rather arduous. What, then, must 
the same trip have meant to Washington, who had to circle 
and surmount these identical hills by the slow process of 
horse and foot? — with the raging mountain torrents to be 
forded or crossed by swimming in the absence of boats and 
bridges! Truly it was 'a man's job', and it is a marvel that 
he ever reached his destination, — to say nothing of the 
homeward journey. 

The Alleghenys are beautiful beyond comparison in 
early summer. Everywhere there is a panorama of green. 
Well nigh all the slopes are thickly wooded, — even now as 
ill pioneer days. It is a veritable 'limber lost' — to use the 
phrase popularized by Jean Stratton Porter. Perhaps 
because of the prevalence of rain in these mountains, the 
thick forests of this region are really wonderful. Nowhere 
have I seen such perfect arboreal splendor. Hill follows 
hill, each equally verdant, until the traveler wonders 
whether, in all the world, another bit of country may be 
found where Nature has been so lavish in her bestowal of 
pine and hemlock; birch, oak and laurel. 

The name of Christopher Gist will be forever associated 
with the enterprises of the youthful Washington. This 
intrepid pioneer had, in 1749, penetrated to the Ohio River 
and to the great Kanawha of West Virginia. He was a 
North Carolinan, pre-eminently a path-finder, one who 
loved the great outdoor world and knew well its four-footed 
denizens and its painted savages: long before the days of 
Daniel Boone he had roamed the Kentucky wilderness. 
Washington was familiar with his renown and appreciated 
his sagacity; right glad he was to have him for a com- 
panion -in the present perilous undertaking. By pre-arrange- 
ment. Gist was waiting to join the party at Will's Creek, 
now Cumberland, Md. 

Washington shortly arrived at this point, having 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



traveled northward from Winchester, and effecting a junc- 
tion with Gist, set out with his augmented retinue on the 
loth of November for the headquarters ( f the French com- 
mander. 

Cumberland is to-day a city of some IS, GOO inhabitants, 
made prosperous by reason of its rolling mills and glass 
works. Could Wash- 
ington come back to 




The Queen City Hotel 
Cumber. and, Md. 



'The Xarrows' 
bt^low Cunilierliind, 



Enianuf! Lutheran Church, Cumlter'.and 
(Site of eld Fort Cumberland) 

revisit the scenes of his youthful adventures, he would never 
recognize in the present bustling town the sparsely settled 
trading-post which he knew so well, with its rude 'Fort 
Cumberland' and straggling warehouses. He would look in 
vain for the old frame house, beneath whose roof he tarried, 
for it has gone the way of all things earthly, but if he made 
diligent search he might succeed in locating a copy of the 
antique print depicting the stockaded fort as it existed in 
1753. 

The traveler of to-day regards Cumberland as merely 
a half-way stop on the road to Pittsburgh ; for Washington 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



89 




"Little Crosf.ings" Bridge over the Custlenian Kivei-, Orrantsville, Md. 

it marked the end of civilization and the beginning of the 
actual plunge into the wilderness. 

While the present City has many narrow and crooked 
streets, which suggest the layout of an ancient town, it 
possesses not a solitary building associated with Washing- 
ton's day and age. It is the rugged ambient hills which give 
Cumberland a touch of originality. The smooth, grass- 
covered bluff to the west of the town is truly remarkable; 
one half wonders why it is not crowned by some old watch- 
tower or citadel. In an old-world town this commanding 
hilltop would surely have had its medieval castle or baronial 
stronghold, but as the old post of Fort Cumberland lay on 
the lower ground near the river, it has long ago lost its 
identity, and the Emanuel Lutheran Church is new reputed 
to occupy the historic site. 

Broadly speaking, we may say that — after leaving 
Cumberland — Washington struck overland, crossing the 
Castleman River at Grantsville, Md., near the present Penn- 
sylvania border (the famous 'Mason-Dixon Line') and then 
traveled entirely on the soil of the 'Keystone State', twice 
fording the Youghiogheny before its junction with the 
Monongahela. "Great Crossings" is on the boundary 
between Somerset and Fayette Counties, and 'Stewart's 
Crossings' corresponds to modern Connellsville. 



90 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

Going into greater detail, we may positively identify 
many miles of Washington's wilderness path, for the major 
portion of the trail between the Potomac and the Youghio- 
gheny — subsequently to be immortalized as 'Braddock's 
Road' — was, in 1753, a route known as 'Nemacolin's Path', 
so named from the Delaware Indian who had some years 
before blazed the original swath through the jungle. Traces 
of this historic highway, portions of which are identical with 
the highly improved Cumberland Pike, may still be found 
as forest paths, notably near Frostburg, Md., and in portions 
of Fayette County, Pa. Following afoot the course of Wash- 
ington, we see for ourselves some of the natural obstacles 
he had to overcome, and appreciate certain favorable condi- 
tions which prompted his predecessors in the choice of their 
route. Besides the larger streams, there were many creeks 
and runlets to be crossed, and it is readily apparent that 
the pioneers were dependent upon such favorable fords as 
were provided by Nature. These chance 'crossings' were 
largely responsible for the course of the Cumberland Pike, 
which later, as a part of the great 'National Highway', was 
destined to be one of the principal arteries along which 
flowed a stream of colonists bound for Kentucky and the 
Ivliddle West. 

A very delightful vacation period may be enjoyed amid 
the beauties of the Alleghenys by anyone who is inclined 
to combine research with recreation. It must be conceded 
that there are some exceedingly profitless vacations, from 
which we return wearied and disgusted in body and soul. 
But far different are the experiences of the traveler who 
finds companionable solitude in an historic wilderness of 
meadow and mountain. When undertaken with a definite 
object — preferably an intimate biographical study — such a 
rest period becomes like unto an excursion in the select 
company of our subject, from which delectable experience 
we enrich ourselves by a permanent and elevating friend- 
ship. 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



91 



Thus, as we tramp along the old roads of Maryland, or 
roam around amid the rugged hill-country of southwestern 
Pennsylvania, we walk and talk with the little knoiv)i 
Washington, — the youth of purpose — clear-eyed, clean- 
minded , brave and companionable. Great as is his military 
a. n d political 



fame, it is as a 
true man, more 
than all else, 
that Washing- 
ton is supreme. 
Yet he was, in 
a measure, 'a 
m an apart' 
from those of 
his day a n d 
generation. The 
thou g h t f u 1. 
care - burdened 
general and 
jDresident w a s 
honored by a 
v.- o r 1 d who 
failed to ccmprehend him. But here in the wild-wood, sur- 
prising as it may appear, we feel and know the sincerity of 
his comradeship. As the wilderness youth in the service of 
the crown, before the obscuring barriers of fame hide his 
inner nature, he becomes to us quite readily understood. 

There is one historic spot which is associated with all 
of Washington's expeditions to the Ohio, — the little known 
'Washington Spring', in the heart of the Laurel Hills, six 
miles from Uniontown, Pa. To-day, it is a useful adjunct 
to one of the prosperous little farms of Fayette County, 
and — unconscious of its importance — bubbles forth in unos- 
tentatious utility beneath the kindly shelter of an ancient 
hog hut. On at least four separate occasions Washington 




The Falls of the Yoiighiogheny at Ohio Pyle, Pa., one of 
'beauty spots' in the Lavirel Hills 



the 



92 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE C ROWN 



himse-f tarried here for a brief encainpinent ; Bradclcck 
tasted its waters, and nearby — as we shall later narrate — 
occurred two of the most noteworthy incidents of the French 
War. Within a stone's throw passes a stretch of the Nema- 
colin Path, well nigh unimproved since the days of which 
we write, and within easy striking distance are several 
mementos of Washington's encounter with active detach- 
ments of the enemy in 1754. 

Uniontown, Pa., is an exceptional base of operations 
far the student who wishes to delve into the complexities of 
Washington's movements during his five years' service as an 
officer of the king. Here you wdll find yourself within reach 
of many of those 
out-of-the - wa y 
localities which 
escape detailed 
description a t 
the hands of the 
arm-chair histo- 
rian. If your 
time is limited, 
'hiking' is out of 
the question, for 
full eight miles 
intervene b e - 
twee n Union- 
town and the 
crest of the hills 
among which are scattered the points of greatest interest. 
Let me advise you not to hire a horse unless you are con- 
vinced beforehand that the animal is disposed to keep mov- 
ing and will not 'grow weary in well doing'. The sorry nag 
foisted upon the unsuspecting writer had a speed limit of 
three miles an hour, proving patient and long suffering 
under our repeated urgings and excoriations, but obdurate 
in her determination to adhere to a walk, frequently inter- 




"Washingtons Spring', Fayette County, Pa. 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



93 



rupted by deliberate standstills, as though to meditate upon 
the beauties cf the countryside or, perhaps, to regam her 
breath. 

Washington, in the account of his first journey, records 
the fact that he "stopped at Mr. Gist's." The former site 
of this brief halting place lies about half-way between 
Uniontown and Connellsville. The latter city, as noted 
previously, corresponds with the Stewart's Cr: ssings of this 
early period. The Youghiogheny River, which is again en- 
countered at this point, has grcwn considerably in breadth, 
and here it turns sharply to the westward as though leading 
the way to fields of greater possibility. 

The section cf country lying between Uniontown and 
Connellsville is a mining region, and beneath many of the 
hills once traversed by the youthful emissary to the French 
forts, they are continually burrowing away with pick and 
shovel for iron 
ore. In the ear- 
ly morning trol- 
ley from Con- 
nellsville you 
will meet with 
t h e begrimed 
miners wearing 
their odd-looking 
caps, upon the 
visors of which 
little glow-worm 
lights are fast- 
ened when the 
men are in the 
'workings' below. 

At the city cf McKeesport, the Youghiogheny meets 
the larger Monongahela, and the united rivers, blending 
sociably, slowly roll on through a picturesque valley to great 
and mighty Pittsburgh. There are some pretty bits of 




Tlic 'Mount Bi'iiddoik Mansion'. ))ui!t Ijy Col. Isaac Meason in 1803 

on tlie old Christopher Gist farin. The Gist settlement was the pioneer 

community west of the Allegheny Mountains. 

Photo. 1)\' Jani( s Hadden, Uniontown. Pa. 



04 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



scenery remaining here and there, but the Alonongahela is 
now most essentially a river of commerce. Along many 
miles of its course there are pottery-kilns, factories, smelters 
and disposal plants. After the fragrant and luxurious 
mountain wilderness through which we have been passing, 
ii seems that this unsightly region is a realm of absolute 
ugliness, where the 'almighty dollar' is king. 

To the 'forks of the Ohio' — where Pittsburgh now 
Stands — came 
Washington on 
the 2 3 r d o f 
N o V e m b e r, 
1753. As yet 
this advanta- 
g e u s site, 
where the Alle- 
gheny — com- 
ing cut of the 
north — mingles 
with the Mon- 
ongahela, had 
not been seized 

by the French. The YoughioKheny at Connellsville, Pa, — the •Strwart's Cros.siiiKs' of old. 

Our 'young voyageur', gazing eagerly at the broadly flowing 
r.'vers, saw at once the strategic value of the position and 
made a note to that effect in his little book. He was indeed 
literally following the instructions of Governor Dinwiddle 
to "keep his eyes open." 

What would Washington say. I wonder, could he stand 
to-day upon the same spot? There ought indeed — so I 
think — be some such thing as a 'conscious reincarnation', 
so that our pathfinders and builders of nations might see 
the fulfillment cf their dreams of future empire and be 
satisfied ! 

To Pittsburgh we shall soon make further reference, 
but for the moment we must revert to Washington and 




IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



95 



the business which brought him thus far afield. At this 
point he had entered the territory of the enemy and was 
soon to find out for himself just how the land lay. 

Purposing to fathom the intent of the redskins before 
his fateful audience with the French, Washington proceeded 
wihout delay along the Ohio to 'the Logstown', not far from 
the present Beaver, Pa. Of the conference, which took place 
on the 26th, he himself has left us a copious record. He 




A vitMv of the Alleghenv at Pitt.Ojui'Kli 



fiattere:! savage vanity with soft words of 'Irve and loyalty'. 
distributed the customary presents, and succeeded in per- 
suadmg the leading sachems to acccmpany his little party 

to Venango, whither they arrived "on the fourth of 

December, without anything remarkable happening but a 

continued series of bad weather" At this ''old Indian 

town on French Creek" Washington saw for the first time 
the waving banner of a hostile nation ; nevertheless the 
officer in charge of the post, one Captain .loncaire, enter- 
tained him most royally. Viands and cordials were set 
before the tired travelers, and the Frenchmen, with appar- 
ent hospitality, conversed in their presence without 



96 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

restraint, — which looseness of tongue enabled our young 
Virginian to pick up considerable 'inside information'. 

It was necessary, however, to penetrate still farther 
into the enemy's country to obtain the ear of the French 




The Ohio River at BeaviT, Pii. 

commandant himself. Not until the 11th of December, 
after a most arduous tramp through naked forests, over 
snow-covered mountains and frozen streams, on which they 
were accompanied by a small escort cf French, did Washing- 
ton's party arrive at Fort Boeuf, a stockaded compound 
seemingly at the end of the world. Here, away off from 
civilization, the dignified and courteous St. Pierre, true to 
the traditions cf his country, kept watch and ward, sur- 
rounded by a handful of soldiers and a convivial staff of 
subordinates. Washington's communication was formally 
delivered, perused without unseemly chagrin, and answered 
with a similarly sealed document which later proverl to be 
an uncompromising defence cf the claims of France, 
Despite the unpleasant nature of his errand. Washington 
experienced no sign of discourtesy, save perhaps the evident 
attempts on the part of his host to disaffect his Indian 
allies. Contrary to expectation, he was provided with 
canoes and adequately outfitted fcr a return journey by 
water; indeed when he embarked for home upon the swiftly 
flowing current of the ice-laden creek, one would little 
imagine that he was the bearer of an ultimatum which was 
()estined to set at war the two greatest nations of Europe. 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWX 97 

Most of the pictures we have seen ilkistratmg the 
accounts of 'Washington's journey to the Ohio' depict the 
perilous events of this homeward trip. The upset canoe, 
the improvised raft, the attempt upon the hfe of Washing- 
ton by a sneaking Indian after he and Gist had detached 
themselves from the rest the 

of the party and were pro- 
ceeding on foot to the set- 

F 

tlements; all these go to 

make up a most interesting ^^J^' ^'''i' IVafhtngton, 

story and well illustrate . 

,, 1 ri , , , . *ion- ROBERT DINIVIDDIE, Efq* 

the hardihood and fleter- His MajcA/s Lieutenant-Covernor, and 

mination of Dinwiddie's CommandcrinChiefof /^/iRG/A^i^/, 

TO THE 

COMMANDANT 

D f T H E 

FRENCH FORCES 



JOURNAL 



OHIO. 



messenger. Yet he passed 
unscathed through dangers 
seen and unseen. 

January 11th saw him 
once again at Belvoir on 
the Potomac, and five days 
later he rendered his re- g O v e R N o RrLn T T E n. 
port to the governor at /u« a translation or ths 
Williamsburg. French officer's answer 

Washington's adven- 
tures on this, his initial 
experience of a military 

Reduced Farsimile of the Title Page of 

nature, have offered abun- washingtons .joumai 

dant material for the historian, the 'original source' for their 
inspiration being Washington's own 'journal', published 
shortly after the completion of the journey, and subse- 
c[uently reprinted in London. He had clearly proven his 
aptitude, and demonstrated that, — notwithstanding his 
youth. — he was capable of trusts involving greatest discre- 
tion. He had scored his first 'big hit'. 

Let me quote from the recent work of ]^Ir. Charles H. 
Callahan, who aptly sums up the results of the achievement: 



WILLIAMS BVRGt 
Prtotdl^ WILLIAM HUNTER. 1754. 



98 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



"With the sagacity of a trained diplomat he had wrung from the French their 
innermost secrets, outwitted the Indian at his own game, and displayed the most 
heroic courage and fortitude in the face of stupendous obstacles and dangers. 
(Successfully overcoming every difficulty, without display or parade, he quietly rode 
into Williami-burg on the 16th of January, 1754, after an abi^ence of two months 
and a half, having traveled over a thousand miles, most of the way through an 
unbroken and unexplored wilderness, inhabited by wild beasts and wiider men, and 
delivered the reply from the French commandant to Governor Dinwiddle." 

Washington's second expedition — that of 1754 — was 
the first in which he was intrusted with the sole command 
of any considerable body of troops. It was also the occa- 
sion of his first downright failure. This was the campaign 
which opened the French and Indian War, in which occurred 
the incident of 'Fort Necessity', and the capitulation of 
Washington's entire command, followed by their immediate 
release with the honors of war . 

Briefly told, the circumstances were as follows: The 
publication of Washington's Journal, with the account of 
his 'spying out 
of the land' 
\v h e r e o n the 
French had tres- 
passed, aroused 
the colonial gov- 
ernment of Vir- 
ginia to a sense 
of danger. A 
force of three 
hundred volun- 
teers, whose zeal 
was increased by 
liberal promises 
of land beyond 
the mountains, was quickly raised; the command — having 
been declined by Washington — being entrusted to Col. 
Joshua Fry. It was the misfortune of the latter to suc- 
cumb to illness within a month or two, and therefore — 
without alternative — our hero was forced by circumstances 
to assume the leadership and the responsibilities incident 
thereto. 




"Rock Fort," near Jumonville, Pa., where the 'Half King' was 

encamped when Washington joined him preparatory to the 

attack on the French. r>, , , t tr j i tt • . n 

Photo bv James Hadden, Uniontown, Pa. 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



99 



The object of the enterprise m hand was the capture of 
the obnoxious French outposts which now menaced the 
border country. Alexandria, Winchester and Cumberland 
again have a place in the story, with a new locality added, 
to wit, 'Great Meadows', a region lying in that historic 
southern part of Fayette County, Pa., to the southeast of 




Ledge of Rock, from which Washington fired on the French, at daybreak, 
May ^8th, 1754, thus opening the French and Indian War 

Photo by James Hadden, Uniontown, Pa. 

Chalk Hill and the Laurel range, where a fertile valley, 
watered by Meadow Run and its brooks, seems fashioned 
by Nature to gladden the heart of man. 

Arrived here on the 24th of May, secret information 
came to W^ashington to the effect that the French were 
coming out to press hostilities, whereupon the colonial 
recruits hastily intrenched themselves, with their Indian 
allies — under the friendly sachem 'Half King' — encamped 
hard by. 

The enemy failing to make their appearance, Washing- 
ton sallied forth on the night of the 27th, and in the early 
hours of the morning following surprised and put to rout 
a small prowling detachment of the French under the 
leadership of Jumonville, who had been lurking suspiciously 
near among the rocky glens of Chalk Hill. This insignificant 



100 



rx THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



engagement, in which Washington was represented by the 
French as having acted without provocation, marked the 
beginning of the long-drawn-out war which was to end in 
the loss of their American possessions. Jumonville himself 
fell at the first volley and was buried in a lonely forest 
grave, while the ledge of rocks beneath which his little 
company was ensconced, is pointed out to such infrequent 
visitors as may come to these parts determined to find 
precise localities. Strange, is it not. that the French and 
Indian War, which decided the future of America, should 
have had its beginning in an obscure nook upon the crest 
of the Alleghenys, which not one in a million of those who 
study the history of 
our country will ever 
have the privilege of 
actually beholding? 

Washington, it 
would appear, had 
'taken the bull by 
the horns' and 'won 
out' in his first in- 
ning with the enemy. 
A few prisoners were 
sent back to Cum- 
berland, accompa- 
nied by a plea for 
promised reinforce- 
ments ; and the 
y o u n g commander, 
early in June, pre- 
pared to push h i s 
initial success by a direct advance to the Monongahela, as 
it was up this stream that the French were supposed to be 
slowly pushing their way. But scarcely had the little force 
of Virginians started for Redstone* when their opponents 
assumed the initiative. Having ascended the river in force, 




Jumonville's grave, on the crest of the Alleghenys. 
Photo by James Hadden, Uniontown, Pa. 



Red.stone is identical with the modern town of Brownsville, on the Monongahela, 
and is distant some fifteen miles frtia' Uniontown. 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



101 



the French and their numerous following of Indian warriors 
themselves began to move forward, compelling Washington 
to retreat pose haste and seek immediate safety behind a 
hurriedly improvised and palisaded earthwork in a corner of 
the Great Meadows, henceforth to be known in history as 




FORT NECESSITY 

»S OUT-i.\Ue.D SY 

FREEMAN LEWIS leiG 



THE GREAT MEADOWS 



The "Great Meadows," looking north. The 'Braddock Road' passes at the feet of 
the observer. The newer National Road crosses from itft to rigiit. 'Fort Necessity' 
is outlined in the center. The parade is passing cft)wn the private lane from the 
National Road to the grove where the exercises of the sesqui-centennial took place, 

JUI.V 4th, 1904. „, , -, TT , , TT • . n 

Photo b.v James Hadden, Uniontown, Pa. 

Fort Necessity. On the 3rd of July the enemy attacked with 
great determination, and through direst necessity, beset as 
he was by a greatly superior force, Washington, — having 
put up a gallant fight, — agreed to 'throw up the sponge' 
and return to Virginia. In this extremity, the young leader 
pursued a course both prudent and sensible. Supplies and 
additional recruits having failed him, he realized that he had 
been out-maneuvered, and he preferred to save his troops 
rather than to battle for a forlorn hope. 

The French, punctilious always in matters of military 



102 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



etiquette, were glad enough to offer liberal terms, being well 
satisfied at seeing the last, as they supposed, of their op- 
ponents from beyond the mountains. 

Notwithstanding the disastrous results of this expedi- 
tion, the people and the Assembly had no word of censure 
for Washington. But Governor Dinwidde, zealously 
enthusiastic with plans for reorganization, decreed that 
hereafter no officer of the provincial militia was to rank 
higher than captain, and that, in future, the Virginia 
officers were to yield precedence to those royally commis- 
sioned. This dictum meant the inevitable reduction of 
Washington's rating, and — thoroughly exasperated — he 
promptly resigned his commission and retired to private 
life at Mount Vernon. 

Thus ended the doings of 1754 on the 'near side' of 
the mountains. Across the range the enemy were now 
actively bestirring themselves with the advancement of 
their outposts, and — before the year closed — had taken ad- 
vantage of the choice site at the 'forks of the Ohio' and 
had built Fort Duquesne, (exactly at the point pronounced 
by Washington to be of paramount importance ) installing 
therein a garrison suf- 
ficiently well equipped 
to hold the position 
against all comers. 

Washington had, 
in 1754, practically re- 
traced his course of 
the preceding year as 
far as the Gist plan- 
tation. The direct 
northwesterly march 
to the Monongahela 
which he had planned 
was abruptly halted 
somewhere between 
this place and m o d e r n Uniontown. 




IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



103 



The site of Fort Necessity is well known to motorists 
going from Pittsburgh to Clarksburg, W. \'a., for the modern 
state road passes through the 'Great Meadows'. Only a few 
low hummocks of earth, scarcely noticeable, remain to indi- 
cate the precise lines of Washington's make-shift fortifica- 
tion. Early historians have told us that the stockade was 
built in the form of a triangle, and we are informed that in 
1816 the existing earthworks were about three feet in height, 
Since then, as is plainly to be seen, a century's storms have 




A 'c!ose-up' view of Fort Necessity 

The white stones indicate the course of one of the low earthworks. The withered 
trvnk is that of a cherry tree which took root within the lines of the fort, and had 
grown to quite a size when Washington la.'t visited the spot in 1784. From the 
wood of this tree. Mr. James Hndden of TTn^on^i^rn const-"''ted the bust of the 
(Ttneral which is illustrated toward the close of this chapter. This photo was taken by 
Mr. Hadden before the tree, having been dead for many years, fell to the ground. 

reduced them considerably. Nevertheless, the traces of 
heaped-up earth are still unmistakably apparent, and not 
so long ago some remains of bark were found in one of 
the excavated tumuli, tending to substantiate the accepted 
theory that a rough wooden palisade formed the chief 
defensive feature of this hastily-built refuge. The site 
had absolutely no strategic importance and was chosen only 
because of the presence of running water, and the urgency 
of instant action. 

Several attempts have been made to mark this 



104 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



THE 
'CARLYLE HOUSE', 
ALEXANDRIA. V\. 
Braddoek's Headquarters 



historic spot. As early as 1830, the Fort Nesessity Monu- 
ment Association was incorporated, and in 1834 and 1904 
elaborate anniversary celebrations were held; upon the 
latter occasion fully eight thousand people frcm Uniontcwn 
and the nearby villages congregating to these rural meadows 
in holiday attire. In 1908 a new commemorative tablet 
was placed in position, several previous markers having 
been destroyed by vandals. Upon it we read the stor; of 

the provincial troops, who "after an engagement of nine 

hours, capitulated to M. Coulon de Villiers, on July 4th, 
1754." 

Admittedly, Washington's movements in these inter- 
esting regions are far from being well known even to close 
Sludents of history, 
and it is to such 
painstaking local 
authorities as Mr. 
James Had e'en of 
Tniontown — to 
whom I am in- 
debted for m a n y 
l)hotographs a n d 
much valuable data 
— that the future 
American will, b e 
greatly obligated. In 
his valuable boors 
dealing with the ex- 
peditions of Wash- 
ington and Brad- 
deck, 1753-'55, Mr. 
Hadden has given 
a clear account of chronological happenings, and some 
charming descriptions of the noteworthy landmarks still 
existing in these parts. 

I was somewhat surprised to learn that George Wash- 




IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 105 

ingion, somewhere about 1782, himself acquired the title 
to large tracts of land in Fayette County, — possibly through 
motives of sentiment, — and that the site of Fort Necessity 
v/as included in his real estate holdings at the time of his 
death. 

The year 1755, with its disasters, is the 'familiar year' 
so well impressed upon the memory of every sshool-boy. 

To acquire lasting remembrance because of one's mis- 
fcrtune.: is most unusual, yet this is the portion of Major 
General Edward Braddcck of the British army, who arrived 
in America that spring with the expressed purpose of 
administering a well deserved 'trouncing' to the over- 
venturescme French, — yet who w^as destined to become the 
leading victim in the most disastrous of the attempts on the 
part of England and her colonies to secure the mastery of 
the Ohio Valley. 

We shall come closest to this historic personage by a 
visit to old Alexandria on the Potomac, — the sleepy Vir- 
ginia town just across the river and a little lo the south cf 
our present national capital, Washington city. The famous 
old 'Carlyle House', still standing, was Braddock's original 
headquarters. John Carlyle had married a daughter of 
William Fairfax of Belvcir, and was therefore one of W^ash- 
ington's circle of intimates. At his mansion in Alexandria, 
Washington was a frequent caller, before the Revolution 
and after; so we may regard it as a peculiarly valuable link 
in history's chain. To-day it is 'sandwiched' between large, 
ugly buildings of later construction and is invisible from 
the street. In the eyes of its present owners this is not 
disadvantageous, for it makes possible the charging of a 
small fee for the privilege of even external examination. 
True, you may go inside the house once you have paid your 
way into the outer enclosure, but the circumscribed setting 
of this choice old Virginia landmark is, in my opinion, most 
deplorable. 

In the Carlyle House were assembled, on the 14th of 



106 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



April, 1755, a notable array of colonial representatives, 
among whom were five prcvincial governors; and wiihin 
these musty old walls the projected campaign was planned. 
Washington, estimating Braddock with his usual keen 
insight, describes him as "haughty and exacting in matters 
of military etiquette; obstinate — but honorable and gener- 
ous, and somewhat irritable." 

Washington, at this time a Virginia colonel — on the 
'retired list' by 
choice, had been 
invited by Brad- 
dock to attach 
himself to his 
personal s t a ff . 
Although piqued 
by reason of the 
governor's recent 
conduct, he had 
accepted with 
alacrity. Since 
the resignation 
of his former 
command he had 
been 'keeping 
bachelors hall' the old \vhakb\ Alexandria, va. 

at Mount Vernon with his brother John Augustine, endeav- 
oring to tidy up the farm after a year's neglect. From his 
rural retreat he had noted with keen interest the passage 
of Braddock's flotilla up the river en route to Alexandria, 
the place of mobilization, and had secretly longed to partici- 
pate in the promising enterprise about to be launched 
against the enemy who had recently been the means of his 
own discomfiture. While he would naturally have hesitated 
about thrusting his services upon the commonwealth, the 
invitation of Braddock was most welcome. His scruples 
removed, he entrusted his business affairs to his brother 




IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



107 



John and prcmptly proceeded to town to wait upon the 
general, who was the most eminent British officer — up to 
this time — to undertake military operations in America. 
The well nigh abandoned water-front at Alexandria, where 
new a few rotting hulks await the hour of dissolution, was, 
in those summer days of 1755, a scene of greatest animation. 
Preparations for the crushing of the French were in full 




hakpp:ks ferry, \\. va. 



swing. From the anchored frigates, men were busy unload- 
ing munitions and stores, while nearby the newly arrived 
British veterans astonished the rustic provincial militia by 
their precise maneuvers and imposing parade. 

Here walked young George Washington side by side 
with his new acquaintances, Captains Orme and Morris, 
who regaled him with tales of daring adventure upon many 
an 'overseas' battlefield, while he in turn endeavored to 
impress upon them something of the seriousness of the cam- 
paign which they were now about to undertake. In all 
probability they lent an attentive ear, but Braddock, 
unfortunately 'wise in his own conceits', would listen to 
little advice and would brook no interference with his own 
preconceived schemes. But is this to be wondered at? Con- 
sider Braddock's sixty years — forty-five of them spent in 



108 



IN THE SERVICE 01' THE CROWN 



the army, — and his meritorious services under the famous 
Marlborough at Ibntenoy. Then remember Washington's 
extreme youth, his comparative inexperience, and his practi- 
cal failure as a commander up to this juncture. Under 
the circumstances can Braddock be blamed for failing to 
place unreserved confidence in the young Virginian? 

After repeated delays the troops got into motion; 
Alexandria was left behind, and the expedition set out along 
the Potomac, — the worthy Braddock clinging tenaciously to 
his coach of state until the utter wildness of the country 
and the impassability of the roads made this luxury no 
longer possible. Well nigh a month was consumed in reach- 
ing Fort Cumberland. As we follow in the van cf the little 
army, which consisted of the two imported British regiments 
and a few colonial riflemen, we may as well be a bit dilatory 
ourselves, and linger here and there along the route. 

Harper's Ferry, one of the most famous tov/ns of West 
Virginia, occupies a site well known to Washington. The 
modern village 
nestles on the 
slope of Bolivar 
Heights, and is 
hemmed in by 
the Potomac 
River on the east 
and the Shenan- 
doah on the 
west. Up along 
the Potomac 
from this point 
the young sur- 
veyor had shaped his course on numberless occasions, 
although in proceeding to Cumberland he seems usually 
to have favored the valley route from W^inchester. 

Harper's Ferry as a village was non-existent in 1755, 
but the scenic grandeur afforded by a combination of per- 




Tablets bes-ide the Railway Station at Harper's Perry, 
telling a story of civil strife. 



IX THE SERVKT. OF THE CROWN 100 

pendicular aiitl wooded cliffs, between which rushed the 
swift flowing rivers, was then as now a source of admiration 
and delight. Neither Washington nor Braddock dreamed 
that so much of epoch-making history was to have its setting 
in this rocky gorge ere a century had elapsed. Little they 
knew that here John Brown was to set up, prematurely, the 
standard of freedom for the slave ; or that here, in the 
fratricidal war which followed, so much of momentous im- 
port was to transpire that five closely inscribed tablets would 
be required to tell the tale. Yet so it happened. 

At nearby Charlestown, in the little court house, John 
Brown received the sentence of death, and to-day the pass- 
ing tourist may, while the train waits at the Harper's 
Ferry station, read from the car windows a lengthy record 
of the war-time vicissitudes which have given the modest 
little town a conspicuous place in the annals of the civil 
strife between the states. 

Let us now cross the Potrmac and side-step to 
Frederick, Maryland, a few miles to the north, where Brad- 
dock, Washington and Governor Sharpe held a council of 
war. The 'transportation problem' had, at this stage of 
the enterprise, become a very serious matter, and it remained 
for Benjamin Franklin of Pennsylvania, then having charge 
of the postal system of the colonies, to set things aright. 
He it was who, by herculean efforts, 'was able to provide 
vehicles for the conveyance of the baggage and provisions 
of Braddcck's army. 

At Frederick, W^ashington and Franklin met for the fiist 
time. Wouldn't you — pilgrim of to-day — who pick your 
way through the quaint lanes of Frederick town, give a 
good round sum to see these tw^o great Americans standing 
side by side? Absolutely different in every respect save a 
mutual patriotism ; representing the very opposites in char- 
acter, heredity and breadth of vision; the son of the Vir- 
ginia planter and the offspring of the New England chandler 
well personify the varied types of genius which have con- 



no 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 




tributed to the making of the American Commonwealth. 

The inn where their deliberations were held is one 
block west of the Baltimore & Ohio station. It was at this 
time that George Washington, civil engineer, laid out the 
route from Baltimore to Cumberland, and the first houses of 
Frederick were built along this road, which later became 
part of the National Pike, and 
is now known as Patrick 
Street. 

Back and forth over this 
old road Braddock and Wash- 
ington marched with their 
soldiers. The fine spring a 
few miles out of town, which 
furnished water to the In- 
dians, and later to Braddock's 
men, is known as "Braddock's 
Spring," and is in existence 
to-day. Four miles west of 
the city is a range of hills 
of the Catoctin Mountams 
called "Braddock's Heights", 
commanding beautiful views 
of the Frederick and Middle- 
town valleys, while the Antie- 
tam battlefield is only a few 
miles distant and easily 
reached by carriage. 

History owes more than 
one apology to General Brad- 
dock. We have criticized the 
slowness of his movements as 
he pushed on over the moun- 
tain-way to Cumberland, yet 
I am constrained to believe 
that few men could have done 



DR. FRANKLIN had already 
passed far beyond the meridian of 
life and had attained an honestly 
acquired fame and fortune before 
Washington came into publicity. 

Born in 1706, the youngest of 
seventeen children, he had come 
from New England to Philadelphia. 
Self-taught, industrious and perse- 
vering, he had succeeded as printer 
and publisher. Before the Colonial 
Wars he had already made his mark 
in the spheres of science, philosophy, 
and diplomacy. 

American history presents no 
greater contrast than the lives of 
Franklin and W^ashington. The for- 
mer rose by his own genius despite 
adverse circumstances ; the latter de- 
veloped a sterling character and 
steadfast patriotism notwithstanding 
the other extremes of fortune — aris- 
tocratic lineage and great wealth. 

We may say, however, that Frank- 
lin was to Pennsylvania what Wash- 
ington was lo Virginia. 

In 1755 Franklin, who was then 
the colonial Postmaster General, 
joined with W^ashington in warning 
the ill-fated Braddock against the 
possibilities of disaster on his ex- 
pedition against Fort Duquesne. 

In 1764 we find Franklin in Lon- 
don, before the king, protesting 
against the injustice of the royal 
system of taxation. While in Eng- 
land he was honored by Oxford 
University's degree of LL. D. 

After trying consistently, but vain- 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 111 



better. Those of my readers 
who have traveled the line of 
the Baltimore and Ohio west 
from Washington cannot fail 
to appreciate the magnitude 
of the task imposed upon him 
—virtually that of building 
his own road as he progressed. 
Napoieon crossed the 
Alps in three days, it is true, 
but the passes which he fol- 
lowed were great international 
highways two thousand years 
old. Of course, Braddock pos- 
sessed neither the adaptabil- 
ity nor the genius of Napol- 
eon, but — on the other hand 
— the forces at his command 
wTre but poorly provided with 
engineering appliances. Be- 
sides, Braddock's royal troops 
were pitifully inadequate and 
wTre not partial to the idea 
of turning themselves into 
wood-choppers or road-dig- 
gers, and most of this un- 
military work was left to the few, while the many looked 
on in idleness, lending merely their 'moral support'. 

Yet mile by mile the narrow roadway was cut through 
the forest, and — a few years afterward — proved its utility 
as an invaluable avenue of commerce and immigraticn. 
Eventually came the railroad, which followed the old 
'Braddock road' for many leagues, being a still further 
stimulus to the settlement of the vast expanses of virgin 
country beyond the Alleghenys. Let us therefore cease to 
disparage the achievements of Braddock and rather accord 



Iv, to avert a rupture with England, 
("for, like Washington, he seems to 
have possessed something of the sen- 
timents of a royalist) he joined with 
the other colonial delegates in the 
preparation of the Declaration of 
Independence, to which he was a 
signer. 

Franklin was a statesman rather 
than a soldier. As such, Washing- 
ton fully realized his worth, and 
shortly commissioned him to pro- 
ceed to Canada in an endeavor to 
induce the colonists there to join us 
in our struggle for independence. 
In this enteri^rise he was, however, 
unsuccessful. 

After serving for a time as head 
of the postal system under the pa- 
triot congress, Franklin was dis- 
patched to France as one of our en- 
voys, seeking open co-operation, — 
military and financial. Now seventy 
years of age, but shrewd in the ways 
of the world, conciliatory, persua- 
sive and cultured, he made an ideal 
emissary. In January, 1778, the 
treaty of alliance between France 
and ourselves was consummated. 

Franklin remained in France 
throughout the duration of the war 
and helped formulate the final peace 
treaty with Great Britain. Return- 
ing to America, covered with honors, 
his declining years were spent in the 
service of Pennsylvania, of which 
commonwealth, for three years, he 
served as president, crowning his 
life's labors with an important part 
in the framing of the Federal Con- 
stitution. He died in Philadelphia, 
April 17th, 1790. 

Franklin said that the proudest 
day of his life was that on which 
he saw Washington inducted into 
office as our first president. 

Washington's high regard for 
Franklin was epitomized in one of 
his personal letters, written from 
Mount Vernon in 1788, in which he 
refers to him as "the great phil- 
osopher. Dr. Franklin." 



112 



IX THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 




to his name an honored place among the makers of America. 
As we follow this historic 'right of way' behind our 
hard-puffing engine struggling up the mountain grades, we 
are reminded of the days of Braddock by many little sta- 
tions up among 
the hills which 
bear n a me s 
reminiscent o f 
his time ; and 
in the neigh- 
borhood of some 
of them are to 
be seen bits of 
ruin which un- 
doubtedly could 
tell interesting 
stories of the 

. Patrick Street. Frederick, Md. 

past. 

At Cherry Run , 32 miles from Harper's Ferry, are 
the remains of Fort Frederick, built in 1755, while a few 
miles farther, 'Sir. John's Run' commemorates Sir John 
Sinclair, who was Braddock's quartermaster. Again, 'Pat- 
terson's Creek' has a familiar sound; this hamlet, where the 
railway crosses the Potomac and again enters ?vlaryland, 
was well known to Braddock and Washington, and is men- 
tioned in the latter's contemporary accounts of his several 
expeditions. 

From Cumberland, — where Braddock's expeditionary 
forces had lingered until the 10th of June, engaged in parley- 
ing with the friendly Indians who were encamped nearby, 
and awaiting the arrival of the long-promised wagons, — 
the army pushed along the usual route to the Youghiogheny. 
The attempts of Braddock and his colleagues to secure the 
co-operation of the redskins had not been very successful, 
in fact their proximity worked more harm than good to 
the cause. The squaws who had accompanied the dusky 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



113 



warriors proved a grievous temptation to some of the 
officers, and it was eventually necessary to dispatch them 
on their homeward way in order to avoid serious compli- 
cations. 

In reality Braddock neither availed himself of the services 
of the Indians nor of those of the numerous scouts, — trained 
in border warfare — who were ready and willing to accom- 
pany the expedition; 
but so much has 
been written concern- 
ing these costly er- 
rors that we can well 
allow the subject to 
rest. Yet very soon, 
through utter inabili- 
ty to cope with the 
undreamed of diffi- 
culties incident to 
this kind of cam- 
paigning, the General 'Washington's Headquarters', Fr( derick, Md. 

was obliged to turn to Washington for advice. "Leave your 
impedimenta", suggested the latter, "with a small following 
division, and push forward in light marching order with the 
main body of troops." And thus it transpired that Colonel 
Dunbar tarried behind — with the rear guard and almost all 
the supplies and ammunition, — and pitched camp on the 
summit of the Laurel range near the Gist plantation. Brad- 
dock endeavored to make better time after parting with his 
baggage train, but anything like speed in these wild and 
broken regions was out of the question. 

Soon a fever laid hold upon poor Washington, and he 
himself was forced to 'lay off' for a few days under the 
personal care of Dr. James Craik, one of the surgeons upon 
the staff of the general. Between the young Scotch doctor 
and his patient there soon developed a friendship which was 
destined to continue through many eventful years, in fact, 




114 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 




'O d Fort Cumberland' as depicted 
b} the ancient prints 



Braddock conferring with the Scouts 

until the close of Washington's distinguished career. Dr. 
Craik, after the French war, established himself at Alexan- 
dria. He passed through most of the engagements of the 
Revolution, being intimately associated with Washington, 
both on the field and in the later period of his political activ- 
ities. They continued to be lifelong neighbors, and it was 
Dr. Craik who closed the eyes of the dying master of Mount 
Vernon. So, in the wooded wilderness, — where 'a friend in 
need is a friend indeed', — a rare intimacy had its beginning; 
one of those happy friendships which wear well either in 
sunshine or in rain, and the long-standing spirit of confi- 
dence and brotherhood between the honest doctor and the 
illustrious Washington offers a pleasing commentary upon 
the character of each. 

While Washington was incapacitated, the expedition had 
passed the ruins of Fort Necessity, grim re- 
minder of the disaster of the preceding year, 
and had pushed on over the mountains to 
the Youghiogheny, halting en route at the 
Washington Spring' site and at Gist's. 

Between 'Great IMeadows' and Connells- 
ville may be seen unmistakable traces of 
Braddock's road, — slight depressions silhouette of 
through the meadows and hills, long aban- Dr. craik 




IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



115 



doned and grass-grown, — which the more recent builders of 
the National Road have avoided in the construction of the 
present highly improved turnpike. In many places the old 
road and the new run nearly parallel, and the significant 
hollow traversing the daisy-fields bears mute testimony to 
the dogged Briton and his provincial laborers, whereas other 
sections of the original lay-out have lost their identity be- 
neath ballasting of stone and coatings of tar. 




An unimproved section of the 'Ncmaeolin Path', Laurel Hill, Fayette County, Pa. 

Braddock, after passing over the Laurel range and ford- 
ing the Youghiogheny, did not deem it expedient to follow 
the course of that river, but — on June 30th — turned due 
north and proceeded in that direction to a point a mile or so 
below the present town of Mount Pleasant, Pa. Here, at 
length, he veered to the westward and at last struck the 
Bush Fork of Turtle Creek near its union with the Monon- 
gahela. He was now indeed in close proximity to the sup- 
posedly watchful foe, but as yet had seen little to warrant 
him in the belief that they were preparing to contest his 
progress. 

The critics have complained that Braddock, in ap- 
proaching the French stronghold of Fort Duquesne, followed 
a long and strangely circuitous route. Undoubtedly he was 



116 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



inspired by motives of caution ; yet in making this last de- 
tour he was but adhering to the well-defined Nemacolin 
trail, which wound over the upland meadows in distinct con- 
trast to the lower and more dangerous river path. The his- 
torian who seeks positive evidence of Braddock's passing on 
these last miles of the long march will find the clearly identi- 
fied trail running through what is now Westmoreland Coun- 
ty, a region less rugged than that of the Laurel Hills, but 




UNIOX SPRINGS MT. PLEASANT, PA. 

The twin springs seen to-day are adjacent to Braddock's camp site; some nine miles 

north of Connellsville. (Photo by Ern. K. Weller, Washington, Pa.) 

full of interest. There is much rolling meadow and bog- 
land; Jacob's Creek and Long Run and 'Salt Lick' to be 
forded, with a number of small hamlets — such as Hunkers 
and Circleville, 'ten miles from nowhere' so it seems, — 
thrown upon the map at random merely for the sake cf pro- 
viding a route for the Rural Free Delivery. 

While Braddock was slowly 'feeling his way' through these 
solitudes, Washington managed to pull through the critical 
stage of his illness, and although too weak to ride in the 
saddle, had made shift to travel in one of the baggage 
wagons of a small convoy which had come through from 
Cumberland. Accompanied by these reinforcements, he 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



117 



overtook the advance column on the 8th of July, as it lay 
encamped on the Monongahela, just one day before the fate- 
ful battle. 

The young colonel witnessed a soul-stirring scene on 
the following morning, when the troops, splendidly disci- 
plined and faultlessly equipped despite their long and toil- 
some marches, gaily forded the river and again re-forded to 




BRADDOCK'S BATTLEFIELD, SEEN FROM KENNYWCOD PARK 
Xow embraced within the town of Braddock, Pa. 

Photo by James Haddon, Uniontown, Pa. 

the northerly bank near 'Frazer's Run', preparatory to the 
expected meeting with the enemy. 

The attack by the lurking French and Indians was sud- 
den and vigorous when it came, and— as every American 
knows — the personal bravery of Braddock and the blind 
obedience of his British veterans proved unavailing to coun- 
teract the advantages of surprise and the cunning of their 
nimble and vengeful opponents. 

So much has been written concerning the ambuscade, 
the 'charmed life' of Washington, his reckless daring as he 
dashed about the fatal field, of the fall of Braddock, and of 



118 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



the pitiful retreat in which the disheartened and terrified 
soldiers — alternately fighting and fleeing — strove to save 
their scalps from the howling savages, that the details of the 
story need no repetition. 

The present town of Braddock, Pa. — a suburb of Pitts- 
burgh — perpetuates by its name the location of the battle- 
ground of 1755 and the memory of the chief among the fal- 
len. So entirely unromantic is the aspect of the place, that 
it is impossible to imagine it as a locality where history was 
made. The busy hives of industry, the maze of railroad 
tracks, and the humble homes of the workers in its shops, 
tell the prosaic story of a struggling and accomplishing 
present rather than a picturesque and gallant past. It is 
well-nigh out of the question to form a correct idea of the 
original condition of Braddock's field, although there is a 
sort of ravine a short distance back from the river which 
some authorities have identified as the place where the 
Frenchman De Beaujeu and his mixed force of regulars, 
Canadians and savages lay hidden while the unsuspecting 
British were fording the Monongahela and getting into 
marching order. There has always been moie or less doubt 
as to the origin of the shot that brought down the bull-dog 
leader of the British expedition. Opinion seems to lean to 
the statement that he was fired upon by one of the Pennsyl- 
vania recruits, a certain ne'er- 
do-well Tom Fausett. who, — 
angered because of Brad- 
dock's perversity in insisting 
u p o n 'open fighting' — 
(whereas the provincial troops 
were quick to utilize the pro- 
tection of every rock and tree 
after the manner of the red- 
skins), deemed it a service to 
his fellow soldiers to bring 
down the wilful hero. Fausett, 

MajDi- O.nfral Edward Braddotk, 
of His Majesty's Coldstream Guards 




IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



119 




COL. THOMAS DUNBAR'S ENCAMPMENT, 

near the Soldier's Orphan School, Jumonville, Pa., on the crest of the Allegheny 

Mountains. Here Dunbar was encamped at the time of Braddock's defeat 

(July 9th, 1755) and here, a few days later, he destroyed his ammunition. 

It is today a fruitful site for relic hunters. 

Photo by James Hiuklcn, Uniontown, Pa. 

who lived to an advanced age, was wont to insinuate that it 
was he who killed the general. Still I think we prefer to leave 
the matter in doubt. Amid the hail of bullets on that dis- 
astrous field, one shot more or less mattered not, and even 
though the well-meaning buck-private took a flying shot at 
his leader, neither he nor anyone else could know positively 
whether this ball or some other, aimed with equally benevo- 
lent intent, did the deadly work. 

Braddock, though mortally wounded, seems not to have 
lost his 'nerve'. Still entertaining hopes of a successful 
stand he dispatched Washington post haste to Dunbar's 
camp, while he, with the harassed remnants of his command, 
attempted to keep up some semblance of organization. And 
Washington, riding all that night in the drizzling rain, 
through the black darkness of the lonely forest, hastened 
toward the supply depot with the tidings of the defeat. At 



120 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

daybreak on the 11th, he broke the news to the astounded 
Dunbar. 

We shall have occasion to go with George W^ashington 
through many trying ordeals before we reach the end of our 
tale, yet I do not think he ever afterward in his career lived 
over such another forty-eight hours. Half sick at the out- 
set, and riding a pillow-softened saddle; suddenly called 
upon to bring order out of chaos ; twice thrown from mortal- 
ly wounded mounts, and four times narrowly escaping death 
from bullets which passed so near as to puncture his cloth- 
ing; forming and covering the retreat of his comrades; and 
then the wild ride for succor, — wet, chilled and downcast in 
heart! And withal, he kept his courage and his wits. 

Luckily, the victorious French and their savage allies 
attempted no serious pursuit, being content with the spoils 
and scalps of the battleground. Uninterrupted, the retreat 
of the British continued. Braddock, game to the last, was 
dying when Dunbar's camp was reached. On the fourth 
day after the battle the end came, and that night, while the 
fugitive army lay sleeping the sleep of exhaustion on the 
borders of Great Meadows, Braddock was buried. 

It is a solemn scene. A little group of officers, wounded, 
weary and wretched, have gathered to perform the last ser- 
vice for their unfortunate commander. Wrapped in his 
regimentals, he has been reverently lowered into a shallow 
grave in the middle of the rough and newly cut mountain 
road. By the light of flickering torches, Washington reads 
in measured tones the simple Anglican service for the dead. 
As with the burial of Sir John Moore at Corunna, not a gun 
was heard nor a funeral note; naught save the plaintive 
hoot of the night-owl and the chirping of the tree-frog, unit- 
ing in Nature's nocturnal requiem. With tlie coming of a 
new day the retreat is continued, and the rumbling wagons, 
rolling over the spot, effectually conceal the location of the 
grave from any ghoulish pursuers. 

So completely were the traces of Braddock's place of 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



121 



interment obliterated, that even Washington himself, seek- 
ing the spot many years later in order that it might be suit- 
ably marked, was unable to find it. Not until 1804, when 
some repair work was being done on the old road, were the 
remains discovered. The presence of military buttons and 
the insignia of rank exhumed with the bones, made the iden- 
tification almost 
positive. T o m 
Eausett, the al- 
leged slayer of 
Braddock, being 
at that time a 
very old man, 
still residing in 
i h e neighbor- 
h o o d, assured 
the diggers that 
this was the spot 
where the body 
had been buried. 
At the time of 
their finding, a 




re-burial of the 
bones was made 



BRADDOCK'S GRAVE as it appears to-day, showing the 
recently erected monument. At the dedication of this memor- 
ial in 1913, Secretary of State Knox and General Codrington 
at a nparbv «jnnt "^ ^''^ Coldstream Guards were present and made appropriate 

contiguous to the present course of the National Pike run- 
ning into Uniontcwn, a mile or two frcm the site of Fort 
Necessity and about three miles frcm the village of Ohio 
Pyle. Seventy years later, Mr. Josiah King, editor of the 
Pittsburgh Gazette, planted four sturdy hemlocks around 
the neglected grave and enclosed it with a neat fence. It 
was not until 1913 that the citizens of Fayette County 
erected and dedicated the beautiful memorial which is now 
plainly visible from the much-traveled highway and which 
catches the eye of every passer-by. 

It is a worthy tribute to the memory of a brave soldier. 



122 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

Although it has now become famihar to those who pass by 
the spot from day to clay, I feel sure that it is as one of the 
new things along the life-path of Washington which I am 
privileged to present to the great body of history-loving 
readers throughout the country. 

Upon the front of the memorial is a bronze bas-relief 
of Braddock with the dedicatory inscription; upon the op- 
posite side the names of the committee who furthered this 
commendable project ; the western bronze recounts the his- 
toric details of the campaign of 1755; while the remaining 
tablet is a tribute sent from over the seas by the present 
officers of the famous Coldstream Guards, in brotherly recog- 
nition of the fact that Braddock commanded some of the 
soldiers of that historic regiment upon the fatal field where 
he fell. 

What a wonderful record is that of the British army, 
with its long roster of gallant leaders! In India you will 
find memorials to Clive and Havelock; in Egypt the foot- 
prints of Gordon and Kitchener ; in Belgium the victorious 
field of Wellington; and here — in the rolling meadow-land 
of Pennsylvania — a tribute to Braddock, who despaired not 
in defeat! To die far from home has been the reward of 
many another noble warrior and true, and if ever the hoped 
for reveille of the resurrection soundeth through the firma- 
ment, there will on that great day be a wonderful gathering 
of Britons from the four corners of the earth and from the 
islands of the sea! The present world dominion of Great 
Britain, "a mightier empire than hath ever been since the 
beginning," has been achieved at an appalling cost. 

There are several most interesting relics of Braddock in 
existence to-day, all of them affording tangible evidence of 
that border warfare which now seems but an echo of the 
far distant part. One of them is his immense silk sash, 
which was swung between the saddle bows of two steady 
horses and upon which he was borne, as in a hammock, 
when he could no longer endure the jolting of the wagon. 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



123 



This priceless souvenir came into the possession of President 
Zachary Taylor, from whom it descended through his daugh- 
ter to its present owners, one of the leading families of Vir- 
ginia. Another memento of the ill-fated Braddock is his 
dining table, which he left behind at Alexandria when he set 
out for the front. This fine old piece of English furniture 
is now in the possession of the Misses Eleanor G. and Sarah 
C. Hewitt of New York City. Then too, his gold watch — 
with case intact, but with works completely corroded — has 
been brought to light, having been found, not so long ago, 
near Great Meadows, at the 'Orchard Camp-site', possibly 
where it fell. 

It cannot be doubted that Braddock, rough and ready 
though he was, entertained kindly feelings toward Wash- 
ington; for just before he died he expressed the wish that 

his favorite horse 
might become 
the property of 
the young colo- 
nel. Washing- 
ton, on his part, 
was ever willing 
to say the kind- 
est things about 
the fallen hero, 
profiting by his 
errors rather 
than criticizing. 
Braddock's de- 
voted body- 
servant, Bishop, who had braved the dangers of battle and 
had attended his chief to the last, at once attached himself 
to the person of Colonel Washington in a similar capacity, 
and continued ' for many years to faithfully perform the 
duties of his humble station. 

As the depleted ranks of the defeated and returning ex- 




Section of the original 'Braddock's Road' near Great Meadows, 
Fayette Co.. Pa. Brrddock's Grave is beneath the trees on the 
left. He died at 'Orchard Camp' a half mile away, at a point be- 
yond the rising ground to the right. The slight 'dip' in the meadow 
which is noticeable in the foregro\ind and which leads in that di- 
rection marks the course of the abandoned roadway. 



124 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



pedition neared the settlements they found that news of the 
disaster had arrived before them, spreading consternation 
among the dwellers on the border. 




BRADDOCK'S ROAD, BRIERY MOUNTAIN 

One of the most romantic stretches of the old Nemacolin trail, passing over the 

east slope of Briery Mountain between the 'Great Crossings' of the Youghiogheny at 
Somerfield and theviilage of Farmington, Pa. 

Photo, by Ern. K. Weller, Washington, Pa. 

Busy as he was with caring for the sick and wounded, 
Washington — none too well himself— found time,upon reach- 
ing Cumberland, to dispatch that now historic letter, in 
which he reassured his mother as to his safety, and briefly 
recounted the story of the battle, amid the dangers of which 
an over-ruling Providence had preserved him safe and 
sound. 

Col. Dunbar, having hastily broken camp and joined 
the shattered troops of Braddock as they passed over Laurel 
Hill, had destroyed all of his ammunition and surplus stores. 
He continued with the Virginia contingent as far as Cum- 
berland, but then, to the utter disgust of all in the provinces 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 125 

he made haste to reach Philadelphia, and in that place set- 
tled down tranquilly for the winter. Mearwhile, the dis- 
traught frontier was left to look after itself, the name of 
Braddock to tarnish under the stigma of defeat, and as for 
Washington, there was naught for him to do but to encour- 
age the settlers with promises difficult of fulfilment and to 
seek the friendly shelter of his Mount Vernon estate for 
a brief period of recuperation. 

Washington felt keenly the ill-success of Braddock's ex- 
pedition as, for the second time, he came out of the wilder- 
ness, blameless, yet without the laurels of victory. It is 
plain that his mind could not have been filled with many 
consoling excuses, for he writes about this time in a spirit of 
deepest dejection — "I have been on the losing order ever 
since I entered the service, which is now nearly two years." 
Yet notwithstanding his vicissitudes, he seems to have 
gained rather than lost in personal prestige. He had given 
ample evidence of courage .and capability for leadership, 
and, with the royal forces out of the colony of Virginia, he 
was universally recognized as the resident military head. 
He himself, despite the fact that his special voluntary service 
had ended with the close of the campaign, continued to act 
as adjutant general of the northern division of the province. 

The Virginia militia, through a spirit of self-preserva- 
tion, I suppose, continued to hold together, and in these 
volunteers Washington never lost faith; although his pa- 
tience was sorely tried by the 'red tape' of the Dinwiddle 
government at Williamsburg. His attitude was one of con- 
stant readiness to serve, although — as he wrote to his 
mot^^er in response to her entreaties to risk his life no more 
— "if it is in my power to avoid going to the Ohio again, I 
shall." 

But the call did come again, and that right quickly. 
Governor Dinwiddle, yielding to public opinion, shortly ap- 
pointed him Commander-in-chief of all the forces of Vir- 
ginia "raised and to be raised." 



126 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

For the next three years Washington's position was a 
most trying one. With a meagre force, seldom exceeding 
700 men, he faced the problem of defending a frontier some 
350 miles long. During these long months, when, tired by 
waiting and tried by circumstances beyond his control, his 
health again broke down. For a lengthy period he was com- 
pletely incapacitated, and lay critically ill at Mount Vernon, 
which circumstance, as may well be imagined, added greatly 
to his disgust. 

When he was able to be up and around once more, he 
established his headquarters at Winchester, where he found 
himself confronted with the two-fold problem of protecting 
the terrified inhabitants of the border and inducing his re- 
cruits to stay with him. So intolerant of restraint were 
some of the soldiery that Washington was forced to resort 
to severe measures of compulsion. There came also another 
annoying complication - — when the British Captain Dag- 
worthy, in charge at Fort Cumberland, refused to execute 
the orders of Washington because of the fact that the latter 
was merely a colonial officer. Determined to have all the 
jurisdiction over his territory or 7ione, Washington jour- 
neyed all the way to Boston in order to obtain an authorita- 
tive decision from General Shirley, the supreme command- 
ant of the royal forces in America. Reinforced with Shirley's 
sanction of his position and authority, he hastened back to 
Virginia, where he made herculean efforts to stir up the 
apathetic legislature of his native colony to a realization of 
the desperate straights of their constituents in the border 
territory. He was partially successful in this regard ; a few 
more companies of troops were eventually organized and 
Fort Loudoun was erected to protect the Shenandoah Val- 
ley. 

Winchester is the most readily accessible of all the 
places associated with Washington's .frontier campaigns. 
The remote border settlement of 1756-'58 has grown into a 
town of goodly proportions, enriched by much Civil War 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



127 




history, with memories of many an exciting cavalry action, 
rapid march or midnight raid. Yet "Washington's Head- 
quarters" is still preserved — a little house, half frame, half 
stone, in which he 
lodged at intervals 
during those years 
when, the rugged 
path of duty 
crossed and re- 
crossed the great 
divide. 

Washington real- 
ized that the 
French forts o n 
the Ohio were an 

ever-present men- Washington's Headquarters, Winchester, Va. 

ace, and until this disturbing factor could be eliminated 
there could be no rest for the settlers on the frontier. The 
Indians, encouraged by the French, persisted in acts of wan- 
ton hostility, and Washington— who sympathized thoroughly 
with the harried pioneers, — began urging another well- 
organized movement against the common enemy. Those 
Virginians high in authority agreed that the idea was excel- 
lent, but months and years passed with nothing definite ac- 
complished. Not until the summer of 17*58 did Washington 
receive orders to proceed to Fort Cumberland, where — after 
another long period of waiting, — he joined his forces with 
those of Maryland and Pennsylvania, to proceed, under the 
direction of General John Forbes, in a final attempt against 
Fort Duquesne. 

In spite of the fact that the Braddock road through 
Great Meadows offered a well beaten path for the expedi- 
tion, some of the royal officers decided upon opening a new 
track over the mountains through the southern counties of 
Pennsylvania. There were two reasons for this; first, the 
British forces were, in 1758, operating from Philadelphia 



128 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



via Carlisle and Shippensburg, — second, the Pennsylvan- 
ians wanted an avenue of communication with the West 
traversing their own colony. In short, General Forbes' ex- 
pedition was not, as Braddock's had been, organized in Vir- 
ginia and chiefly guided by the policies of that province. 

There was much talk of dividing the forces; thus per- 
mitting the Virginians to follow their own favored route. 
Against this alternative, as well as the opening of the new 
road, Washington strongly protested. W^hile successful in 
his advocacy of a united advance, he 'lost out' in his argu- 
ments against the projected course through the unbroken 
forests of Pennsylvania. Thus it was that several months 
were consumed in breaking the trail from the Potomac to 
Raystown and then 
cutting due west 
through virgin 
forests over the 
northern reaches 
of the Allegheny s 
to L y a 1 h a n- 
na. (near what is 
now Latrobe, Pa., 
on the trunk line 
o f the Pennsyl- 
y a n i a railroad 
from Harrisburg 
t o Pittsburgh). 
This new path 
across the moun- old 'Carlisle inn-, Carlisle pa. 

Here Washington is reputed to have put up 
tains is known to historians when visiting the small settlement of early days. 

as 'the Glade Trail' and was ^^""^*^^^' °* ^"^ ^'^'"'^^°" ^"> 

destined— like the Braddock road— to become a great com- 
mercial highway. 

Not until the loth of November did the entire expedi- 
tionary force arrive at Loyalhanna, still separated from 
Fort Duquesne by fifty miles of rugged country. Already 




IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 129 

the French had given evidence of watchfuhiess, having ut- 
terly routed an advance party sent out under Major Grant. 
This dis-spiriting encounter, with the rapid approach of an- 
other winter, nearly turned the purpose of the enterprise. 




ALONG THE 'FORBES ROAD' 

A birdseye view of Schellsburg, Bedford County, Pa. Here, in 1758. SiriJohn 
St. Clair, (who was a veteran of Braddock's campaign) erected a redoubt, at or 
near the site of the old Shawnee village. 

Photo by Prof. John K. Lacock. 

General Forbes was ill; in fact during almost the entire 
campaign he had been carried on a litter. Colonel Bouquet 
seems to have borne the responsibility for the making of 
the new roadway, in the construction of which difficulties 
had been encountered very similar to those which faced 
Braddock three years before, although, to be sure, Forbes' 
route crossed but three mountains and not nearly so many 
streams as did Braddock's, and was besides thirty to forty 
miles shorter. Prof. John Kennedy Lacock of Harvard 
ITniversity, who has made a careful study of the subject, 
gives the following authoritative facts: 

"Braddock's experience had revealed the necessity of having a stockade camp 
a"d blockhouses, with magazines for provisions closer together This Foib"s did. 
and in addition erected a number of redoubts which in case of defeat world fnrnish 
a refuge for the troops if hard pressed. Remains of many of these b-eastworks or 
redoubts can be seen to this day. The one in the best state of preservation is 
McLean's redoubt, seventy-two feet on every side and in some p'aces three feet 
high, situated on the summit of A'legheny mountain, a short distance from the 
Wilderness Club house. In the mountains, where the cut is sometimes as deep 
as ten feet, evidences of the road are very pronounced. Its course lay through the 
counties of Bedford, Somerset, Westmoreland, and Allegheny, passing at or near 
the following places — Bedford, (O'd Raystown). Wolfsburg, SchelUburg. Edmonds 
Swamp (three miles north ol Buckstown). Stoystown. Ligonier, Youngstown. Unity 
Church, (near which spot it crossed the line of the present Pennsylvania railroad), 
Cld Hanna^town to a point four mi'.es east of Bushy Run, Bouquet, Murrysville, 
and so on to Pittsburgh." 



130 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



General Forbes has been criticized almost as bitterly 
as Braddock, yet we have evidence that he gave his closest 
reflection not only to the subject of the advance, but also 
to the safeguarding of his line of retreat. Nevertheless, the 
encampment at Old Hannastown might have marked the 
farthest progress of the expedition had not fortune unex- 
pectedly interposed in favor of the British commander. 




OLD HAXNASTOVVN. WESTMORELAND COUNTY, PA. 

Situated on the 'Forbes Road' some three miles north of Gre^nsburg, Pa., and 
about twice that distance west of modern Loyalhanna. A few rods west- 
ward was the site of the 'Three R 'doubts Fort', built in 1758. 

Photo by Prof. John K. Lacock. 

While debating as to the prudent course, chance in- 
formation came to the effect that the French themselves 
Vvcre at their 'wits' end to subsist, their supplies and rein- 
forcements from Canada having failed them completely. 
Encouraged by this ne'vvs, the -v^'avering Forbes determined 
upon a rapid dash to the Monongahela, — -with Washington 
in personal command of the vanguard of a thousand men, 
- — exercising a caution born of the remembrance of poor 
Braddock's fate. The last episode of the French and Indian 
War was destined, however, to be bloodless. The garrison 
of Fort Duquesne, aware of approaching retribution, de- 
termined to exercise discretionary valor, and forthwith hast- 
ily decamped, leaving nothing but a smouldering ruin to 
fall into the hands of the victors. Thus, on the 2oth of 
November, 1758, were the efforts of five years rewarded 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 131 




SITK OF 'FORT LIGONIER', LIGONIER, PA. 

This strong position on the Loyalhanna Creek was the first fort built by the 
English west of the Allegheny Moiintains. In 1758 it served as a main base of 
supp ies between B( df ord (Raystown) and Pittsburgh. A few rods from the fort, 
the 'Forbes Road' forded the stream. Photo by Prof. John K. Laeock. 

and the British assured of the future mastery of the Ohio 
and its tributaries. 

Pittsburgh, the mighty commercial city of to-day, 
named in honor of William Pitt, — that able British states- 
man who was, in turn, the friend of the struggling American 
colonies and of the free United States — has arisen around 
the ancient site of Fort Duquesne ; not merely 'at the forks 
of the Ohio', but spreading in all directions away beyond 
the confluence of the Allegheny and the Monongahela, 
a vast metropolis of industry. Amid its tall buildings, stacks 
and shops there is preserved just one relic of pioneer days. 
Down at the extreme point where the waters meet, once 
tucked between modern structures and but lately awarded 
its just quota of elbow-room, stands the time worn block 
house portrayed at the beginning of the chapter. It 
occupies the site of the original fort, and was built in 1764 
by Colonel Henry Bouquet, one of the officers who 
had served with Forbes and Washington and who 
subsequently continued in command at this outpost. 



132 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



The people of Pittsburgh justly regard this old fort 
as their historic talisman, for it exemplifies the spirit of 
determined enterprise and perseverance which has made 
their city 'the Gateway of the West'. Fort Pitt, although 
built six years after the fall of Duquesne, is contemporary 
with Washing- 
ton's activities 
and was most 
certainly seen 
by him when, 
in 1770, he again 
visited the lands 
of the Ohio val- 
ley. It fitly com- 
memorates the 
goal of those 
ardent efforts of 
his early years, 
when "in the 
service of the 
Crown," he 
looked ahead 
into the future. 

Of still 

greater significance is this little square house of darkened 
brick when we recall that it marks the first great step in the 
Westward course of our expanding empire. By this route, 
with faces toward the ever-receding sunset, have passed in 
turn the Kentucky pioneer, the settler bound for the vast 
wheat lands of the Middle W^est, the future ranchman of 
the Dakotas and the gold-seeker of California. At Pitts- 
burgh the East ends and the West begins. No one can 
stand at the point of land where the Ohio has its birth 
without thinking of the great Mississippi into which it 
fiows. The flat-bottomed steamboats — with end paddle- 
wheels and pairs of crown-rimmed smoke stacks — carry 




BRADDOCK'S SPUING, McKEESPOKT, i'A. 

On the site of one of the hist halting places of the ill-fat( d 

expedition of 1755. before the battle of the Monougahela. 

Photo by Ern. K. Weller, Washington, Pa. 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



133 



your thoughts away to the cotton-piled levees and the 
Southern gulf. At Fort Pitt the original border-land which 
our fathers won for freedom merges into the greater America 
beyond the mountain barrier which newer generations have 
reclaimed from the wilderness and made habitable. 

It is impossible to visit Pittsburgh without experienc- 
ing a thrill of admiration for its marvelous industrial 
growth. Millions and hundreds of millions of capital, in- 
vested in iron and steel, have resulted in a bewildering 
expanse of founderies, smelters and furnaces. To one 
unfamiliar with the sight, the 
night approach to Pittsburgh 
seems unearthly in its fear- 
ful grandeur; it is one of the 
world's wonderful experiences. 
For miles the banks of the 
jMonongahela are lined with 
mighty establishments, which 
— illuminated by the ghastly 
glare of ascending flames, 
exhausts and white-hot metal 
— present a never-to-be-for- 
gotten panorama, compared 
with which the fabled 'in- 
fernal regions' must be cool 
and quiet. But instead of tor- 
menting lost souls, these busy 

plants are filling pay-envel- Queen .Vliquippas Rocks, McKeespoit, Pa. 

opes and bringing independ- f^^^ ^^% rugged b-uff was located the 

^ B o 1 Indian village at which Washington stopped 

ence and comfort to indus- ""^ ^'' '"'"''"■" •'''Y75I ^'"°™ ^''°^"^° ''^ 

trioUS thousands. ^'^0*0 ^y Em. K. Wellcr, Washington, Pa. 

Let us now go back to 1758, when the victorious troops 
of General Forbes turned their faces once more to the East, 
leaving the ensign of Britain fluttering gaily to the breezes 
of the Ohio from the ruined palisades of the French out- 
post. Washington realized that his work ^a as done. With 




134 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



the soldiers of France put to flight and their Indian allies 
disposed of, the prospect of a peace of long duration seemed 
assured. The long-suffering settlers could now breath 
freely, and the Virginia Colonel, with a sense of duty well 
performed, was nothing loath to resign his command and 
repair once again to Mount Vernon. Although it was mid- 
winter, with snow upon the ground, perhaps — and squally 
blasts whistling through the beeches by the mill creek — 
December at the cheery Potomac mansion must have 
seemed to him as pleasant as May. 

The twenty-seventh year of Washington's life had, in 
many ways, been an eventful one. Besides bringing him 
military honors, it had witnessed the rising of his political 
star. While far removed from Virginia, with such a thing 
as 'electioneering' un-thought-of, he had been elected a 
member of the House of Burgesses from Frederick County, 
being victorious over four opponents. The celebration of 
this triumph at the polls had been rather a cosLy proceed- 
ing for the frugal Washington. A certain Colonel Wood 
stood proxy for him in his victory pageant, and was carried 
around the town of Alexandria upon the shoulders of the 




THE FORDING PLACE, SALT LICK CREEK, HUNKERS, PA. 

Another historic spot on the famous 'Braddock Road' between Mount Pleasant 
and McKeeisport. At this point the trail has long since been abandoned for newer and 
more convenient highways. Photo by Ern. K. Weller, Washington, Pa. 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 135 



9lj 




- 


^^# 


,l§m^ 




£ 




* 


■HI iir^"*~ ^^*^ 




a 


^^0S0r- 


-'wr.T' *■ ■' 





WILLIAMSBURG, VA. 

This is another section of the Duke of Gloucester Street, now 

'improved' into a 'corduroy road' by planking, thrown 

across the mud. Colonel Washington passed this spot 

whenever he journeyed to the provincial capitol. 

crowd amid deafening huzzahs. The admirers of Washing- 
ton then proceeded to run up a goodly sized bill for liquid 
refreshments, which — according to custom — he was bound 
to settle. Some 'forty pounds worth of punch, wine and 
strong beer' was consumed by his zealous adherents on the 
occasion of this jubilee. Quite a nice little party, was it 
not? 

Again, the year 1758 was one never to be forgotten 
by 'Colonel George of Mount Vernon' because it settled his 
matrimonial fate and sealed his conjugal fortune. With the 
advent of a new January there came also wedding bells. 

At the outset of this chapter we promised to weave into 
the fabric of our narrative a few bright strands of romance, 
and to tell all we knew about W^ashington's love episodes. 
So-called 'love' and its coincident follies is no respecter of 
persons, and usually takes stronger hold upon the world's 
men of mark than the plain, ordinary, 'no account folks' 
whom we run across in the everyday walks of life. As a 
matter of course the foibles and short-comings of those in 



136 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

high places are widely exploited and receive more than their 
due of publicity and sometimes censure. Happily, the biog- 
raphers of Washington have been confronted with few 
rough spots which have required 'glossing over', or deep 
stains on the escutcheon of his character to tax their eva- 
sive ingenuity. Admittedly, his record is far above the 
average, and his uniform good judgment asserted itself so 
forcefully in his private life that we find nothing therein to 
shatter our ideals. 

I doubt not that he was very human, and there may 
be some foundation in fact for the yarns relative to his 
escapades, which stories — having been passed from one 
generation to another — are still current in Virginia. Even 
accepting as truth the veiled intimation that seme of his 
adventures were by no means platonic, we like Washington 
none the less, being drawn closer to him by a knowledge of 
our own vulnerability. Certain it is that he was highly re- 
spected by those who knew him best. The Virginia gentle- 
man of to-day, who is more apt to regard him as a 'late 
lamented neighbor' than as America's greatest citizen, will 
probably appraise him, in terms of affectionate familiarity, 
as a "high class sport." This was the precise language used 
in my hearing on one occasion. And indeed such an esti- 
mate, coming from a man of the world, is about as appreci- 
ative a tribute as one gentleman — not too Puritanical — 
could pay to another. 

We gather, from the frank admissions in Washington's 
boyhood letters, that he began to be susceptible to the 
charms of the opposite sex at an early age. But in those 
days he had small opportunity for 'skylarking'. Whatever 
may have been his inclinations, he was tightly bound by 
maternal restrictions during the years spent at Fredericks- 
burg, and it is not surprising that — smitten with admira- 
tion for someone, out of reach by reason of his youth and 
colonial discipline — he occasionally succumbed to 'the 
blues'. Little scraps of his boyish verse have come down to 



m THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



137 



us, poetry immature yet eloquent, — grandiose attempts at 
the expression of that passion which older minds realize 
cannot possibly be expressed — attesting to the fact that he 
was devoured by the internal fires of the 'girl-craze.' 




The quaint old Cary House at Williamsburg in which once lived an tarly sweetheart 
of George Washington 

At Mount Vernon he found himself free from the 
restraints of boyhood, and at seventeen — that age so aptly 
delineated by Booth Tarkington — he devoted more or less 
time to the writing of letters, some of them still extant, — 
in which sentiment occupied a conspicuous place. Young 
Washington dearly loved the company of refined women, 
and at Belvoir and Williamsburg found opportunity to meet 
some of the most charming debutantes of northern Virginia. 
These friendships undoubtedly contributed to broaden and 
polish the character of the youthful surveyor. 

The story that he courted Sally Cary, who became the 
wife of his friend George Fairfax, is quite evidently an error, 
for she had been wedded for a year before W^ashington met 
her, and was his senior by at least six years. There was, 
however, a younger sister, Molly, who frequently visited 
Belvoir, a "very agreeable young lady" for whom 'G. W.' 



138 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



1 



evidenced a high regard. Were it not, as he himself wrote, 
for a certain "lowland beauty," the aforesaid Molly might 
have completely captivated him. 

The identity of this "lowland beauty" has been a favor- 
ite subject for dispute. Until quite recently she was 
thought to have been a Miss Lucy Grymes who subse- 
quently married Henry Lee and became the mother of 
'Light Horse Harry' Lee of Revolutionary fame. But the 
discovery, not long ago, of a letter written by W^ashington 
in his twentieth year to one William Fauntelroy of 
'Naylor's Hold' on the Rappahannock, about fifteen miles 
from Wakefield, seems to indicate that it was the latter's 
daughter Betsy who had appealed 
so strongly to the youth in the 
wilderness. That she had, more- 
over, given Washington 'the 
mitten', is quite evident from his 
epistle, which ventures the hope 
of a "revocation of the former 
cruel sentence." She m u s t 
therefore have spoken her "nay" 
before W a s h i n g t o n's visit to 
Barbados, when he was but 
nineteen and she 'sweet sixteen'. 
Cruel sentence indeed, which per- 
haps she afterward regretted; 
for her unsuccessful suitor not 
only 'lived through it' but 
repeatedly thereafter made love 
in the good old fashioned way. 

One of the more mature 
exploits of Washington in the field of heart-conquest was 
his brief intimacy with and lasting admiration for a New 
York girl — Mary Philipse of Yonkers, — whom he met upon 
the occasion of his first visit to the North in 1756. After 
his stirring adventures in Braddock's campaign, his recep- 




MARY PHILIPSE-MORRIS 

Original portrait by John Woolaston 

in possession of the Misses Philii)se 

of New York 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 139 




The PHILIPSE MANOR HOUSE. Yonkers, N. Y., the most notable hiiid-niark in 

Westchester County. Not only as the home of Mary Philippe, for whom \N ashington 

entertained high regard, but for its two and a quarter centuries of regional history, 

is it justly venerated and adequately cared for. 

tion was everywhere most enthusiastic; he was, in fact, 
regarded as a social Hon, the hero of the hour. Under these 
circumstances. — an elegant young soldier, representing the 
'b.ue blood' of Virginia, — he was received with distinction 
by the aristocracy of the Hudson. Among those who smiled 
upon him was fair Mary, and George smiled in return. Yet 
it is probable that the short duration cf his stay permitted 
little more than the beginning of a, premising friendship, 
which, after Mary's marriage in 1758 to Major Robert 
Morris. — one of Washington's ccmpanions in arms during 
the border war, — must of necessity have vaporized. Had 
Washington been a resident of New York City, it is likely 
that his wooing would have been prosecuted with great 
ardour. As it was, he returned to Virginia a 'free lance'. 
The old Philipse Manor House, built — some declare — 
i!S early as 1682, still adorns the principal street of Yonkers 
and is the most interesting building in Westchester County. 
In 1755 it was occupied by Frederick Philipse, who was 
accounted one of the wealthiest land owners on the Hudson. 
In 1776, when Washington again passed through the town 



140 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

in his 'fighting retreat' it was forsaken by its royalist owners. 
There can be no doubt that the patriot leader felt more than 
ordinaiy interest in this ample homestead, although well- 
remembered Mary, with her husband — who had also 
espoused the cause of the King, — had been driven from her 
New York mansion before the advance of the Americans, 
and subsequently embarked for England. Who can deny 
that there is something fascinating about meeting an old 
sweetheart or passing beneath her once-frequented window- 
ledge? 

The Yonkers house is still well preserved, and was 
until a few years ago used as the City Hall. It stands on 
Warburton Avenue, one block north of Main Street, and 
as an interesting memento of Washington and his times, 
is well worthy of a visit. 

The circumstances of Washington's first meeting with 
the 'widow Custis', who finally captured his hand and heart, 
are quite well known. In the midst of his preparations 
for the final campaign against the French, he had occasion 
to make a hurried journey from Winchester to \Villiams- 
burg. En route he accepted the invitation of a Major 
Chamberlain, who lived near the Pamunky River in New 
Kent County, to tarry for dinner. Among the guests at 
the Chamberlain house was Mrs. Martha Dandridge Custis, 
the widow of Colonel Daniel Parke Custis and the mother 
of two handsome little children, John and Martha. She was 
just three months younger than Washington. From the 
time of their introduction, it seems to have been a case of 
a strong mutual liking. We might almost say of 'love at 
first sight.' Thus George Washington, who had for ten 
years been tossed about on a sea of conflicting amours, 
met his Waterloo. 

When a captivating widow looks with favor upon a sin- 
cere but hesitating youth, she, of all women, knows how 
to bring his attentions to a focus and help him across the 
'psychological moment' which bridges the eternal instant 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



141 



between single blessedness and wedded bliss. Widows have 
had the benefit of experience, and usually know their own 
minds, which is a knowledge seldom possessed by either 
gallant swains or blushing misses. Widows, naturally, have 
a keener insight into the heart of a man ; they can see his 
weak points, maybe, but they also have the abihty to 
recognize true worth and to justly estimate character. 

Washington's fate was sealed from the moment of this 
chance meeting. During his brief 
stay at the colonial capital he 
made it his business to visit Mrs. 
Custis at her own 'White House' 
not far from Williamsburg, and 
vvhen he set forth on his last 
march to the Ohio he carried in 
his heart her promise. Quick 
action indeed: far speedier than 
the progress of the campaign, 
which moved so slowly that our 
hero had yet another opportunity 
of paying a flying visit to his 
betrothed before actual hostil- 
ities commenced. 

It is a source of little wonder 
that within a month after Wash- 
ington's return from Fort 
Duquesne, — on January 6th, 1759, to be exact — the wedding 
was duly solemnized "on a scale commensurate with the 
wealth and standing of the contracting parties," as an old 
writer expresses it. The time-worn adage about marrying 
in haste and repenting at leisure was not proven in this 
instance, for the union turned out to be a fortunate and 
happy one, and neither of the 'parties thereto' ever had 
reason to regret the momentous step which was to make 
them one for forty long years. 

Martha Custis, it may be said, was independently 




MARTHA CUSTIS, the charming 
widow who won the heart of Wash- 
ington. Quaintly described as "not 
tall but extremely wel' shaped, with 
an agreeable countenance, dark 
hazel eves and hair, and frank, en- 
gaging Southern manners." 



142 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

v/ealthy in her own right, for Colonel Custis had bequeathed 
to herself and children a fortune variously stated as between 
one and two hundred thousand dollars. This ample com- 
petency coupled w4th Washington's own assets, swelled their 
joint fortune to what was, in those days, an enormous figure. 
It is a known fact that in his latter years George Washing- 
ton was rated as the wealthiest man in the colonies. 

The historic nuptials were celebrated, it is presumed, 
at the Custis residence. J. T. Headley, the biographer of 
Washington, gives the following description cf the event: 

"From far and near came the laced coats and powdered hair and long cues, till 
the hospitable mansion overflowed with the wealth and beauty and pride of the 
colony. And a noble couple they were — the colonel six feet three inches in height. 
towering above all around, and the beautiful bride radiant with happiness. The 
rafters of the huge mansion rung that night with mirth and gaiety." 

The Reverend David Mossom, for forty years rector 
of the little parish of New Kent, was the officiating clergy- 
man, and upon the day following their marriage the 'newly- 
v/eds' attended cervices at St. Peter's Church a few miles 
distant. The contemporary description given below, with 
the incident information regarding the trousseau of the 
bride, may possibly interest the ladies: 

"They came in bridal state, coach and four and a train of wedding guests, among 
whom was Speaker John Robinson and members of the House of Burgesses. At the 
marriage ceremony, the bride was attired in a heavy brocade si k interwoven with 
silver thread, embroidered satin petticoat, high heeled satin shoes with buckles of 
brilliants, point lace and ruffles ; her ornaments were a pearl necklace, earings and 
'bracelets. The bridegroom appeared in citizen's dress of blue cloth; the coat em- 
broidered white satin, his shoes and knee buckles were of gold; his hair was pow- 
dered and at his side hung a dress sword." 

About this time Colonel Washington repaired to 
Williamsburg where he was to take his seat as a member 
of the Assembly, and for the period of the session resided 
with the new Mrs. Washington at her old home near the 
capital Permit me to once again quote from Headley: 

"During the session the speaker was directed, by a vote of the House, to return the 
thanks of the colony to Colonel Washington for the distinguished military services 
he had rendered. This the eloquent speaker did in a manner to suit himself, and 
poured forth a strain of eulogium at once unexpected and embarrassing. Wash- 
ington, taken wholly by surprise, rose to reply, but could not stammer forth a 
single word. Out of his painful dilemma the witty speaker helped him as gener- 
ously as he had lielped him into it. 'Sit down, Mr. Washington,' said he, 'your 
modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the power of any language that I 
possess'. Nothing could have been more elegant and skillful than this double stroKe, 
which at once relieved Washington, while it enhanced the compliment." 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



143 



Somewhere about the middle of April, 1759, Colonel 
Washington brought his bride to his own beautiful estate 
at Mount Vernon and entered upon a sixteen year span of 
well nigh unalloyed happiness. He had now secured a com- 
plete title to the Potomac mansion, for upon the re-marriage 
of Lawrence's widow, he had bought out her interest in the 
property for a liberal consideration. John Augustine Wash- 
ington, who had long looked after these broad acres, had 
beaten his brother 
George in the mar- 
riage game by a few 
months, and had set 
up for himself 
farther down the 
river near Wake- 
field, where the first 
of the family had 
settled sixty years 
before. 

George Washing- 
ton, pre - eminent- 
ly a practical man 
cf business, found 
no d i ffi c u 1 1 y in 
securing competent 
overseers f o r his 
extensive property 
holdings. Assuming 
as he did the role of 
general manager 
and executive head, 
farming for him 
possessed no ele- 
ment of drndo-orv .. ^^^^^'^ ^"^ Washington (aftr Houdon) 

lllCllU Ul UlUUgtiy. Conytn-eted by James Hadden, of Uniontown, Pa, 

S1«VPC well far] ^''°™ ^^^ ^°°^ °^ th*^ ^' d cherry tree which grew 

k^ldVCfe, wen I e CI , withm the lines ot Fort Necessity. 

v/ell housed and exceedingly prolific, solved the ^abor ques- 




144 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 



tion' without dispute. His immediate subordinates were 
drilled in efficiency and loyalty, his ample means and 
unquestioned rating assured him a ready market for the 
product of his fields, and prosperity crowned his business 
ventures as good fortune had rewarded his marital determin- 
ation. Washington was not one to be satisfied with merely 
a comfortable living. For him there was no 'burying of the 
talent wrapped in a napkin'. To his mind, years of abun- 
dant harvest without financial gain would have been time 
wasted. Yet in his private business affairs as in 
the service of the public, he always gave one hundred 

cents on the dollar. He was ^ j/' ^^^^^ ,/^ 

an ardent advocate of square ^ ./^ti<fc^.^i-,-tx^ '^.^ 

dealing, although sharp in 't/^''^^^^^ ~ — "~ ^ /^ 

driving a bargain. We have e 2a-e^ <i^<-J -- ■ -^^ 

record that he prided him- ^<^ ^^k^€><^ c?r?-^x,^^^^ ^ 

self on the uniformly excel- /^--^c-^^-^^^-"^^ ~y - - - 

lent quality of his flour, ^<^,,,,^^^i^Cc^ ,. ^ x% 

affirming confidently that it ^^<^^^<?^<^^r:€k. - , -2.5" 

was the equal of any similar -^ <^2^^..^a^ ~ — -^ 

product milled in Great \^^^^^y^ " ~ ~ " ' ,/ 

Britain. So, by dint of the sc^^J^ / ^,^2^,^ . ^ 

conservative thrift which ^Jkdt^ ^^_ ^_ . -^^ 

had now become habitual, ^^'^^ " ~ S?- 

he continued to add to his d^,,^^^i^y6 ^~ ~ " ' " ZS 

fortune, notwithstanding ^.^^.>-<k_^ Qsi 31-j^l^ -. /6 

the open-handed hospital- ^^^^^^^'^'^^^ ~ ~~ ^^ 

ity which, as master of ^^^^l^"^^ ~" '' /r 

Mount Vernon, he ever ex- s j%^,^^,^^ ^ ZZ.S S ~\~. Ts 

tended to his widely in- <?^*>ii^*=L^ - _ ._ - -^ 

creasing circle of friends. ^-^^^^ ^X^ ; ^»^tU^ ^ 

During the halcyon and / /^,u^'A^^-^-^>r^J^^:^ 

idylic years between 1759 ^^:>^<^ <OOi^^>^>^^^ - 4, 

and 1775 — the period of ^,Pl^,i^ ' ~ ~-j ' ' ' _ j^^ 

repose and calm before the 6 -^?^t^»-^u^^ 2^ 

R e V lu t i n a r y storm, K:^''^ ^^'^ ~"^J 

_9 PhA/_^ _ - - -. _- o-a, 

Keduced facsimile of Washington's memoranda, re- /Q .^fei<.,^^^^-\.^X.-y. --^^ 

ferring to trees and shrubs at Mount Vernon. yj /i ^ ^ ^ ^- ' -^ '• « 

Courtesy of J. A. Craig, Paterson, N. J. ^Z^^^^"^ ^ _ . - _ - . ~o 

(Note the spelling, 'Yeller wilier' etc.) ^*^ <2^X. -^■- _ *. _ _ _ *—*• 



IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 145 

which was to lead him, involuntarily, through the 
deep waters of trial to the foremost place in the annals of 
American history — Washington realized his ideals of 
domestic felicity ; his manner of living was exactly as he had 
planned it, and thoroughly concurrent with his conception 
of 'getting the most out of life'. The long and agreeable 
intervals between his legislative duties at Williamsburg (for 
he continued to serve his constituents at each succeeding 
assembly) gave ample opportunity for the systematic 
expansion of the Mount Vernon plantation, and the devel- 
opment of its resources with scientific precision. One item 
of routine in this connection seems to have afforded especial 
delight to Washington. It was the mathematical and 
clerical work of the farm. True to his ear^y instincts, he 
gloried in the making of maps and surveys, detailed draw- 
ings of projected improvements, and carefully tabulated 
account books and memoranda. Not until the beginning of 
the Revolution did he relinquish his 'book-keeping depart- 
ment' into other hands, while the worthy Tobias Lear, his 
private secretary of later years, does not appear on the 
scene until the presidential period and Washington's last 
sojourn beside the Potomac. W^ashington's business docu- 
ments and records, like the copy-books of his boyhood, all 
evince neatness and painstaking care, although sometimes 
he has fallen down in his orthography. 

Colonel Washington, in the autumn of 1770, made his 
fifth excursion to the west of the Alleghenys. It was a 
nine weeks tour, undertaken in company with his friendly 
neighbor and physician. Dr. Craik; these two being joined 
at Stewart's Crossings by Colonel William Crawford, one of 
the pioneers of Pennsylvania. No longer was the path en- 
dangered by lurking Frenchmen, for with Wolfe's sacrifice 
upon the plains of Quebec in 1759, the continent had been 
won for England. Hence, their arrival at Fort Duquesne 
— on the 17th of October — was that of peaceful travelers, 
who "lodged at Sample's, a very good house of public 
entertainment." According to Washington, the post was 



146 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 

now considerably more than a block-house, for they 
"found there a town of about twenty log houses on the 
Monongahela, 300 yards from the fort, inhabited largely 
by Indian traders." The little party then proceeded down 
the Ohio to the Great Kanawha, where they viewed the 
lands awarded to the Virginia troops for their military 
services. On the return journey, Washington visited some 
of his own property in what is now Mt. Pleasant township, 
Washington County, stopped overnight at Thomas Gist's 
estate, renewed old acquaintances with Fort Necessity and 
Great Meadows, and cut back over the mountains by the 
well-remembered Braddock road. 

W^ashington's sphere of activity had somewhat nar- 
rowed during the years of peace and plenty at Mount 
Vernon. Never demonstrative in the performance of his com- 
monplace duties for home and province, he seemed likely to 
be hidden henceforth from the eyes of the world and in a 
fair way to enjoy forever the 'simple life' he coveted. 
Yet the fact that even his near neighbors regarded him as 
something out of the ordinary may be gathered from the 
following contemporary description, as recorded in the 
words of a fellow Virginian, Captain George Mercer, who 
had traveled in his company to Boston in 1756 and who 
knew him intimately: 

"He is as straight as any Indian, measuring six feet two inches in his stock- 
ings, and weighing 175 pounds. His frame is padded with well developed muscles, 
indicating great strength. He is wide shouldered, is neat wristed. broad across the 
hips, and has rather long limbs. His head is well shaped and gracefully poised on 
a superb neck. A large and straight rather than a prominent nose; blue-gray, 
penetrating e.v es — which are overhung by a heavy brow, high cheek bones and a good 
firm chin. He has a clear though rather colorless skin, which burns with the sun : 
dark brown hair — which he wears in a cue: and a pleasing and benevo'ent though 
rather a commanding countenance. His mouth is large and generally firmly closed, 
and his features are regular and placid, although expressive of deep feeling whm 
moved by emotions. Tn conversation he looks you full in the face, is deliberate, 
ile'crential and engaging. His voice is agreeable rather than strong and his 

demeanor at all times composed and dignified. His movements and ge.stures are 
graceful, his walk majestic, and he is a splendid horseman." 

This then was the manner of man who had faithfully 
served his sovereign and state, had dealt honorably with 
his fellow-men, had proven himself a dutiful son and a 
devoted husband, and who now — like Moses in the wilder- 
ness — was being held in reserve for a higher and more noble 
service in freedom's cause! 



^'ii^'^- 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 







■THK OLD ELM", CAM- 
BRIDGE, MASS., UNDER 
WHICH WASHINGTON 
TOOK COMMAND OF THE 
CONTINENTAL ARMY — 
1775 



amuel Adams has been called "the father of the Revo- 
lution," and because of the prominent part played by 
New England in the opening days of the struggle for 
independence, most of us have unconsciously become im- 
bued with the idea that the war had its beginnings 'away 
down East.' Men of the type of Hancock and Otis, Hop- 
kins and Sherman, who here gave free expression to their 
convictions; and such stirring events as the Boston Mass- 
acre and the Tea Party, have tended to focus our eyes upon 
the northern colonies. And while it is true that the guns 
of Lexington marked the actual commencement of hostili- 
ties, we must not forget the fact that for several years prior 
to this open rupture with Great Britain every one of the 
provinces had been deeply stirred by a sense of royal in- 
justice, and that during the months immediately preced- 
ing that eventful "nineteenth of April in 'seventy-five,' " 



148 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



the spirit of ferment had openly manifested itself in all the 
leading cities of the Atlantic seaboard and the provincial 
capitals where commerce and industry had felt most heavily 
the hand of the tax-gatherer and the domineering presence 
of the king's rapacious minions. 

It was purely as a Virginian that Washington gradually 
became affected by the disturbing trend of local events and 
the increasing restlessness of the times. Virginia was in no 
respect more backward than Massachusetts in asserting her 
sovereign rights, and as early as 1765, Washington [still rep- 
resenting his constituents at Williamsburg] found himself in 
the midst of a hot-bed of discontent consequent to the 
passage of the 'stamp act.' I do not propose to re-write the 
history of the ten years of agitation prior to the Revolution, 
when the first sparks of resentment, fanned by oft-repeated 
acts of Parliamentary tyranny, smoldered awhile and then 
burst into fl a m e. 
While Hancock and 
'the Adamses' were 
stirring New Eng- 
land, while New 
York was erecting 
liberty poles on 
'Golden Hill', while 
sedate Philadelphia 
protested solemnly 
through the warn- 
ing voices of Frank- 
lin and Ross, the 
balmy breezes of 
the Southland were 
likewise fanned into 
v^ h i r 1 w i n d s of 
remonstrance. 

Williamsburg became a 'nest of sedition'; at least so 
thought Governor Dunmore. In this now drowsy town a 




The old "Powder Horn", Williamsburg. Va. 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 149 

torch was lighted which in turn kindled the beacons of 
liberty upon a thousand hills. Dunniore prorogued the 
House of Burgesses, but the representatives of the people re- 
convened at the old Raleigh Tavern and had their say. Of 
course, it was 'uncfiicial,' but it was far more efficacious in 
its consequences than all the check-mating designs of the 
King's ministers. The famous 'Virginia Bill of Rights' had 
its birth here, giving immortality to the names of Patrick 
Henry and George Mason, and entitling Virginia to a place 
first among the colonies who openly voiced defiance to the 
crown. 

The famous old 'Powder Horn' at Williamsburg is a 
relic of these disturbed times. It is a very unusual octagon- 
al tower with walls eight feet thick, erected somewhere about 
1715, during the administration of Sir Alexander Spotswood, 
one of the 'good governors' of very early days. Situated on 
the main thoroughfare, (the Duke of Gloucester Street) it 
has been in closest touch with the local happenings of two 
centuries. As its name implies, it long served as a mag- 
azine; and here, just prior to the Revolution, the enraged 
governor seized a goodly store of gunpowder, lest it should 
be appropriated by patriot hands for use against royal 
authority. Seventy years ago this ancient repository for com- 
bustibles was a store-house of 'spiritual fire' for it was then 
used as a Baptist meeting house. To-day we find it trans- 
formed into a museum, with a great variety of interesting 
but dusty curios under the guardianship of a chatty spinster. 
While she does not maintain a 'tidy house', she is most 
obliging and courteous, and the visitor who happens to saun- 
ter in during a quiet hour will be amply compensated, al- 
though the dingy old donjon with its stone-paved floor and 
lofty beams, entwined by cobwebs long undisturbed and 
supporting a roof leaky with age, — reminds the visitor of 
a sombre and musty cell in a merlieval castle rather than a 
relic of colonial America. 

The immortal "give me liberty or death" speech of 



150 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 




Patrick Henry, perhaps the most famous of all expressions 
of early American patriotism, was voiced in the presence of 
the tense and awe-struck 'Virginia Convention', assembled 
in 1775 at old St. John's Church, Richmond ; for in the city 

on the James, 

already begin- 
ning to be a place 
of some conse- 
q u e n c e, the 
righteous anger 
of the people de- 
manded expres- 
sion in no uncer- 
tain tones. The 
ancient sanctu- 

arV stands to- ®*'' John's church, Richmond, Va. 

day in time-honored simplicity, just as it did when the 
energetic little lawyer roused the spirit of the long suffering 
delegates to the point of frenzy. 

The far-away events of this glorious epoch seem in- 
tensely vivid to the traveler in old Virginia. South of 
Richmond we find ourselves riding in a vestibuled car 
over practically the same road that Patrick Henry traveled 
on horseback, and we have no difficulty in conjuring up from 
the dead past his curious figure, with three-cornered hat and 
coat tails a-flutter, as he rode from Hanover Court House to 
Williamsburg. And in the latter town we rattle over a 
'thank-you-ma'am' corduroy road to the very spot where 
the entire colonial assembly of Burgesses congregated, — the 
site of the Virginia capitol, — where from 1759 to 1775 Wash- 
ington himself represented his constituents with dignity 
and decorum. This historic structure was long since de- 
stroyed by fire, but upon a bit of open ground at the south- 
erly end of Williamsburg's long avenue, the sturdy founda- 
tions may yet be seen. Here also is a monument, and the 
traveler who is suflSciently interested to pause and read the 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



151 



inscription upon its tablet cf bronze will learn that those 
other famous words of Patrick Henry, the ominous warning 
to George the Third, were uttered upon this very spot. 

Shut out for a moment the brightness of the Virginia 
sunshine and the beauties of the flower-bedecked field in 
v/hich you stand; forget all about the practical little auto 
which pants nois- 
ily in the road be- 
hind, better cut off 
the 'gas' and let it 
v/ait your pleasure. 
Fancy y o u r s el f 
within the long- 
vanished,high-win- 
dowed hall of the 
eighteenth cen- 
tury. The house 
is jammed: the 
honorable burgess- 
es are in their al- 
lotted seats. Privil- 
eged visitors line 
the walls: without 
is a crowd of those 
less fortunate — with due accompaniment of waiting horses, 
chaises and sedan-chairs. The Legislature convenes, debate 
begins; one after another of those whose names are des- 
tined to go down into history take the floor and speak in no 
uncertain terms. Yet' it remains for the little barrister from 
the backwoods, — he of the unprepossessing mien and con 
spicuous, horn rimmed spectacles, to cap the climax with 
that startling burst of eloquence, which shall go ringing 
down the ages as the challenge of the oppressed to the 
oppressor. 

One wonders just what were the innermost thoughts of 
Washington at this historic moment, as he sat with folded 




SITE OF THE COLONIAL CAPITOL AT WILLIAMSBURG, 
VA., where Washington learned his first lessons in statesman- 
ship ; and where the sons of Virginia, in the years that fol- 
lowed, gave voice to the cause of a new freedom. 



152 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 

hands and head bowed in thought. His attitude toward the 
mother country had always been one of affectionate regard. 
By ancestry he was an Englishman, and he naturally shrank 
from the idea of a course which should be openly hostile to 
the motherland in whose service he had valiantly distin- 
guished himself. Yet when the time came for a definite deci- 
sion, a little later on, he hesitated not. Regardless of the fact 
that position, property and even life were at stake, he cast 
his lot with those who championed liberty. I heard Theo- 
dore Roosevelt, — making one of his characteristic pleas for 
out-and-out Americanism, just a few months before his 
death, cite the attitude of Washington as an example for all 
to follow. Excoriating unmercifully the hyphenated Ameri- 
can, T. R. laid emphasis upon the fact that no 'finer sensi- 
bilities' deterred the 'father of his country' from open 
allegiance to the cause he knew to be right. 

The quaint and imposing 'Speaker's Chair' which was 
used at the Williamsburg capitol for many years, is now a 
venerated relic in the present State House at Richmond. It 
was made in 1700, when King William ruled the then 
peaceful and satisfied colonies, and is a most interesting 
specimen of 'period furniture'. Within its capacious depths 
have sat dozens of Virginia's eminent statesinen, and upon 
its carved pediment, — with radiant sun-burst, strikingly 
emblematic of the glory of the free America that was to be — 
the deep set eyes of Washington must often have rested as 
he listened patiently to the drawn-out debates of his learned 
conferees in the ante-bellum days, wishing rather for the 
activity of his plantation and the industrious clanking of the 
mill-wheel by the creek, which — while noisy — was produc- 
tive of results. Too often argument is a useless waste of 
time, and speech-making is to no purpose; particularly so 
in times of peace and prosperity when men talk merely for 
talk's sake. It is in periods of stress that oratory is born, 
and usually the lasting impressions are made by words few 
but forceful. 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



153 



Washington never claimed the gift of eloquence and in- 
frequently addressed the Assembly. When he did speak, up- 
on rare occasions, he was heard with respect, for his presence 
somehow carried weight and inspired confidence. Patrick 
Henry himself, referring to the first Continental Congress 
which assembled in Philadelphia 
a little later, designated Mr. Rut- 
ledge of South Carolina as the 
foremost among American orators, 
but added that "if you speak of 
solid information and sound judg- 
ment, Colonel Washington is un- 
questionably the greatest man 
on the floor." 

The ancient high-backed chair 
of the president of the Assembly 
seems indeed like a relic of an age 
long past; the old colonial capitol 
is no more ; and the heroic voices of 
Virginia's Revolutionary sons have 
given place to the warble of the 
robin and the nightingale, and the 
eternal harmony of Nature. 

Yet no melancholy thoughts need mar the pleasure 
of him who stands beside the monument at Williamsburg, 
for what greater memorial could the patriots have desired 
than a place in history and a treasured remembrance in 
the hearts of their countrymen? Their words have gone 
echoing down the aisles of time, gathering volume with the 
passing years, — keeping pace as it were with the progress of 
events, — and seemingly applicable to every present crisis. 

It is certain that, up to the fall of 1774, Washington 
decried the necessity of an open break with England, but — 
on the last occasion when the Virginia Assembly met he 
acquiesced in the resolutions which resulted in the conven- 
ing of the First Continental Congress. Governor Dunmore 




THE SPEAKER'S CHAIR formerly 

used in the Virginia House of 

Burgesses at Williamsburg 



154 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 




CARPP:NTEKS' HAI.L. Philadelphia: where the First Continental 
Congress assembled, in 1774 

had burned Norfolk, and the Virginia delegates to the con- 
vocation were instructed to demand a declaration of inde- 
pendence. In Williamsburg the British flag was hauled 
down to give way to a banner of thirteen stripes, and almost 
before he knew it Washington found himself a rebel! 

Old Carpenters' Hall, in Philadelphia, witnessed a nota- 
ble gathering; when, on the 5th of September, the fifty-five 
representatives, chosen spokesmen of the several colonies, 
came together for the first time. Again it was Patrick 
Henry of Virginia who sounded the key-note of the Con- 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 155 

vention. "The distinctions between Virginians, Pennsyl- 
vanians, New Yorkers and New^ Englanders are no more," 
said he. "I am not a Virginian, but an American!" And so 
George Washington, another of the Virginians, found that 
he was something juore than a rebel; he, too, was an Amer- 



ican J 



At Philadelphia, being thrown into intimate relation- 
ship with this assemblage of the greatest men upon the 
continent in point of abilities, virtues and fortunes, Wash- 
ington had full opportunity for ascertaining at first hand 
the various phases of a situation which had now become a 
national problem. Massachusetts, he well knew, had been 
one of the first provinces to 'take the bit in her teeth' and 
uncompromisingly balk at the mandates of England, so — 
fully to satisfy his own mind — he personally interviewed 
the New England delegates. After convincing himself of 
their sincerity and the 'rectitude of their intentions', he 
seems to have committed himself unreservedly to the new 
cause, satisfied that his fellow representatives were actuated 
by none but the noblest of motives and were fully war- 
ranted in their defiance of that kingly authority which he 
had been taught to venerate. Yet even as late as the 9th 
of October we find him writing: "I am well satisfied that no 
such thing [independence] is desired by any thinking man 
in North America," and, "it is the ardent wish of the 
warmest advocates of liberty that peace and tranquillity up- 
on constitutional cpxrunds may be restored." 

The assembly-room in Carpenters' Hall remains in 
much the same condition as of yore, — a large, bare cham- 
ber — whose walls are hung with precious pictures and nota- 
ble documents. The speaker's desk occupies the same posi- 
tion it held in 1774, and some of the original Windsor chairs 
stand behind a protecting railing. The s(v-called 'Colonial 
type' of architecture was but an adaptation of the classic 
Greco-Roman; and the dignified simplicity of the fagades 
and interiors of the Revolutionary period seem to have been 



156 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 




REMBRANDT PEALES MIXIATUKE OF WASHINUTON, (attcr Gil1)ert Stu;ut) 

This rare and unpublished portrait is now in the possession of Mr. Erskine 
Hewitt, of Ringwood Manor, N. J., and New York City, through whose courtesy 
it is presented. Tliis interesting picture formerly belonged to Lafayette, and was 
presented by hiui to one of his American friends. Tlie original is framed in rtd, 
white and blue plush, just as it came to this country from the chateau of the beloved 
French marquis. 

thoroughly in keeping with the sturdy spirit of the times. 
The stately apartments — like this at Carpenters' Hall — 
wherein were voiced the deliberations of America's true 
aristocracy, were as worthy the honor as was the marble 
rostra of the Roman Senate House to echo the words of 
Cicero. 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 157 

Carpenters' Hall, which is the true 'cradle of liberty', 
stands near the foot of Chestnut Street, between Third and 
Fourth, wedged in among tall modern structures, and front- 
ing a narrow alley. It occupies a tiny quadrangle which 
seems almost a place apart from the turmoil of the city; a 
quiet nook where one may 'hear himself think'; similar in 
many ways to those delightful rest spots off London's busy 
Strand, — the sacred precincts of St. Bride's, and the hal- 
lowed enclosure of the Temple, where Goldsmith lies in un- 
disturbed repose. True, Carpenters' Hall has experienced 
its vicissitudes. Watson, the famous 'annalist' of Philadel- 
phia, tells us that in 1829 the upper rooms cf Carpenters' 
Hall were occupied by the students of a private academy, 
wdiile the famous assembly room was devoted to the use of 
an auctioneer, being "lumbered up with beds, looking- 
glasses, chairs, tables, pictures, ready made clothes, and all 
the trash and trumpery which usually grace the premises 
of a knight of the hammer." Thus was this dignified cham- 
ber once desecrated; the contents of many attics humbled 
in confusion and airing their disconsolate misery in the 
"sublime apartment which first resounded with the indig- 
nant murmer of our immortal ancestors." 

All through the years, however, the building has re- 
mained the property of the Carpenters' Company; here 
they assembled before the Revolution and by them the hall 
is still regarded as official headquarters. Surprising as it 
may seem, this association — founded for mutual betterment, 
proficiency and benevolence — was nothing more or less than 
an early type of the now sadly degenerated labor union. 
Nothing is more to be commended than a body of artisans 
combining for their own advancement, but I fear that 
some of the modern leaders of 'organized labor' have fallen 
from their high estate. Would that those rabid agitators, 
demagogues of Bolshevism — who lead their greed-blinded 
followers into the mire of 'slacking' and sabotage — might 
stand before the hall of the Carpenters and learn a lesson 



158 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 

in Americanism! Never can the loud-mouthed sluggard 
rank with the honest toiler. Those who endeavor to under- 
mine the foundations of well-earned 'capital' make a griev- 
ous mistake. The righteous principle we call American lib- 
erty had its beginnings in Carpenters' Hall; the much- 
envied capitalist, who makes 'big business' possible, got his 
start — nine times out of ten — by hard work and thrift. 
There is no royal road to riches. The man who would be 
king in the business world can do no better thing than to 
emulate the frugality, honesty and loyalty of the patriots 
of Revolutionary days. If the hours wasted in complaining 
were devoted to industry, the dissatisfied worker might lay 
the foundations of a competency and join the ranks of those 
who employ the labor of others. But to proceed with our 
story. 

While the 'First Congress' was yet in session, came 
news of serious clashes between General Gage and the peo- 
ple of Boston, and before the next gathering of the Colonial 
delegates on the 10th of May, 1775, the tidings of Lexing- 
ton and Concord had spread throughout the provinces. So" 
it was that the members, as they assembled for the second 
trnie in the "City of Brotherly Love," realized to a man that 
there could now be no turning back, but — doubly firm in 
their convictions that "rebellion against tyrants was obed- 
ience to God," — they resolved to face the issue unflinch- 
ingly. 

In reviewing the events incident to this Second Con- 
gress, it is to the world-famous Independence Hall on Chest- 
nut Street that we must transfer our attention. In the east 
room on the first floor began a session destined to last, with 
but a few short interruptions, until December 12th, 1776; — 
to be exact, for 582 days, — during which time the Conven- 
tion of Delegates transformed itself by the Declaration of 
Independence into a genuine Continental Congress, repre- 
senting a free people, — a "new nation, conceived in lib- 
erty." 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



159 




INDEPENDENCE HALL, PHILADELPHIA 

We are told that Washington was in Virginia — dining 
with his old friend Lord Fairfax at Greenway Court — when 
tidings came to him of the affair at Lexington. For these 
two staunch friends it meant a final parting of the ways. 
What his lordship said has never been recorded. Washing- 
ton sadly took his leave. They never met again. 

Without delay Washington repaired to Philadelphia, 
riding north from Mount Vernon with Patrick Henry and 
Edmund Pendleton. They found that there was still some 
disposition on the part of the Convention to hope that the 
King might yet be brought to his senses through an ener- 
getic armed resistance, toward which end every effort was 
being put forth. Boston was already closely invested by 
General Artemus Ward and the troops of Massachusetts, 
but Congress had adopted the war as begun in New Eng- 



160 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 

land as a national responsibility; the soldiers there under 
arms had become the duly accredited military force of the 
confederation, with the question of the supreme command 
alone to be decided. 

Washington's appointment came solely because of his 
undoubted fitness. By general consent, so it seemed, he had 
been chosen chairman of the joint committees having charge 
of military affairs; as such occupying the position of greatest 
responsibility in the matter of organization, regulations and 
preparation for defence. It should be remembered that the 
personnel of the first and second Congresses was of the 
highest type, the men who represented their fellow patriots 
in these conventions being the flower of the American 
statesmen of the day. There was, therefore, no dearth of 
available material for a Commander-in-Chief. Hancock, 
the presiding officer, would not have been averse to trying 
his own hand at the job, while others among the New Eng- 
landers were equally deserving of recognition. The dele- 
gates from Virginia made no efforts to advance Washington 
as their candidate, while he himself — although being the 
only member of the Assembly habitually to appear in uni- 
form — was in no sense a party to his own selection. So 
diffident was he that when Johnson, delegate from Mary- 
land, placed his name in nomination, he hastily withdrew 
from the conference chamber. This was on the 15th of 
June, and his election followed without one dissenting vote. 
Upon being informed of this unanimous expression of confi- 
dence, Washington made no attempt to conceal his mingled 
emotions. Frankly avowing that no ulterior motives nor 
thoughts of personal aggrandisement prompted his accept- 
ance, he called "every gentleman in the room" to witness 
that he considered himself unequal to the task, and refused 
all compensation for the service he was about to begin, save 
a reimbursement for the actual expenses he nmst necessarily 
incur. 

Truly may it be said that the Virginia farmer — "the 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



161 



assume 
a long 

him in 
of the 




transplanted English country squire" — prepared to 
his new duties with reluctance. The thoughts of 
separation from all he held most dear oppressed 
measure equal to the realization of the magnitude 
undertaking just 
ahead. Notwith- 
standing all this, 
but two brief 
days elapsed be- 
tween the re- 
ceipt of his com- 
mission and his 
departure f o r 
New England ; 
the celerity with 
which Washing- 
ton put his pri- 
vate affairs i n 
order being proof 
sufficient that in this crisis, as in times past, he had been 
prepared in advance of the emergency. Not unlikely, he 
had mapped out his course weeks beforehand. This may 
seem to be at variance with his self-depreciatory attitude be- 
fore Congress, but it is characteristic of life. We half fear, 
half hope, sometimes, — doubting ourselves, maybe, — yet not 
unconscious of the powers which lie within us, and mindful 
of our weight of influence. So it was with Washington, who 
knew in the depths of his heart that he had honestly won 
the confidence of his countrymen, and — knowing this — liad 
prepared for eventualities. 

At this juncture in his career there is again granted us 
a delightful glimpse of his personal nature. How genuinely 
human and humble is his communication to his brother, 
John Augustine, — to whom he once more entrusts the man- 
agement of his estates — in which he expresses the hope 
that ''my friends will visit and endeavor to keep up the 



Home of FRANCIS HOPKINSOX. uiic of New Jersey's five 
'signers' of the Declaration of Independence, still standing at 
BORDEXTOWN, N. J., through which village Washington 
passed when on his way to take command of the army in 
New England. 



162 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



spirits of my wife as much as they can, for my departure 

will. I know, be a cutting stroke " Again, in a farewell 

note to Mistress Martha, he says with unaffected simplici- 
ty. "I should enjoy more real happiness in one month 

with you at home, than I have the most distant prospect of 
finding abroad if my stay were to be seven times seven 
years. I shall feel no pain from the toil or danger of the 
campaign; my unhappiness will flow from the uneasiness I 
know you will feel from being left alone " 




THE DKI.AWARK KIVKH AT HL'KLINGTON, N. J. 

To the left is seen the Pennsylvania i-hore. Near the aged tree in the right 
foreground stood Governor Frank'.in"s "executive mansion' in colonial times. The 
steamer plys between Burlington, X. J., Bristol, Pa., and other river ports. 

The passage of Washington across New Jersey, New 
York and Connecticut afforded an opportunity for many 
of the patriots in these provinces to view the person of their 
champion. All accounts agree that he made a profound im- 
pression as he passed through the principal towns along the 
way. accompanied by Generals Schuyler and Lee, and at- 
tended by a brilliant cavalcade of officers. The newly 
chosen commander was now in the prime of his manhood 
and every inch a soldier; austere enough to inspire respect, 
and conforming perfectly to all the traditions which demand 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



163 



that a leader of men must be able to command their ad- 
miration. 

New Jersey greeted Washington with enthusiasm, as— 
shortly after leaving Philadelphia— he passed over the Del- 
aware and proceeded northward through Bordentown and 
Burlington. Unlike the colonies of Virginia and Massa- 
chusetts, New Jersey had suffered less from external oppres- 
sive influences than from bitter partisan strife within her 



GOVERNOR 

MILLIAM FRAXKLIN 

OF 

XEW JERSEY 




See biographical note 
pages 164-5) 



own borders and between citizens of' divergent sympathies. 
This state of ferment had been brought about, in large 
measure, by the misrule of William Franklin, the royalist 
governor, only son of the learned patriot and philosopher 
whom America will never cease to honor. Burlington, as 
the provincial capital of New Jersey, had been the residence 
of Governor Franklin before his forced retirement, and here, 
on the famous 'green bank' fronting the broad Delaware, 
we may still see his residence — now considerably modern- 
ized — and one of the veteran sycamores which he planted 
by the water's edge. 

After the ousting of Franklin, the center of Jersey's 
activities shifted across the state to Elizabethtown, where 



164 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



^W^^ 


^ Hpapsi 


1 "^ '^RhES 





resided the iiew executive, 
Governor Livingston, — a man 
quite differently disposed — 
who soon came to be regarded 
by Washington as a bulwark 
of patriotism, strong, sturdy 
and ever-ready. They first 
met upon this fateful journey 
of the Commander-in-Chief 
to the 'Bay State' in 1775. 
when Washington tarried at 
Elizabethtown for a few hours 
before embarking for the city 



OLD HOUSE, PEARL STREET, BURLINGTON, 
N. J. — This humble dwelling is a relic of Revolu- 
tionary times. It ha.s not only witnessed the pass- 
ing of Washington, out — being near the water- 
front — was a spectator of the British attack in 
1777 

Concerning Washington's 
line of march as he journeyed 
to Boston, one might say that 
it was "a continuous ovation", 
yet his reception was one of 
mingled curiosity and enthu- 
siasm rather than profound 
confidence. Regarded in 1776 
merely as a brilliant hope, it 
remained for him to prove his 
sterling worth, and to earn — 
through seven years of stead- 
fast adherence to an unshaken 
purpose— the universal esteem 
which was to be his ultimate 
reward. 

In order to gain a proper 
understanding of the situation 
in and around Boston in the 
summer of 1775, we shall do 



of New York. 



The life of WILLIAM FRANK- 
LIN, the ro,\a;i.st executive of the 
colony of New Jersey just prior to 
the outbreak of the Revolution, of- 
fers a singular and profitable char- 
acter study. William Nelson, in his 
'History of the New .Jersey Coast' 
says that it is much easier to deter- 
mine his negairve points than the 
qualities which would entitle him 
to recognition. Unlike his dis- 
tinguivhed father. Bcniamin Frank- 
lin^ whom (with Lincoln and Roose- 
velt) we may reckon as being one of 
the most typical of Americans, Gov- 
ernor Franklin was tried and found 
wanting in the great crisis. He had 
received a liberal education, had 
come into touch with the leading 
men of Great Britain when, as his 
father's secretary, he had traveled 
abroad, and, in 1763, was honored 
with the royal appointment as gov- 
ernor of .Jersey, possibly to influence 
the attitude of Franklin the e'.der 
in the impending controversy over 
the matter of taxation, of which the 
British ministry, at this early date, 
already discerned unmistakable 
signsv. Unforcunate consequences 
followed this ill-advised selection. 
The stress of circumstances de- 
veloped William Franklin into a 
rabid Tory, and caused an estrange- 
ment between father and son which 
was never wholly healed. The gov- 
ernor, failing to estimate the 
strength of the undercurrent of 
popular opinion, early came to be 
regarded with suspicion, his at- 
tempts to maintain the supremacy 
of the crown by 'gag methods' and 
the proroguing of the state assembly 
created open hostility, and he was 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 165 



removed from office by the patriots 
when the storm broke. Taken to 
Connecticut for safe-keeping, he was 
later permitted to sail across the 
seas to England, where he continued 
to reside. It is a matter of quite 
general knowledge, however, that he 
was present when the treaty of 
peace between the successful colo- 
nies and the mother-country was 
signed in 1782. 



well to indulge in a brief re- 
sume of the happenings in 
New England immediately 
preceding the arrival of Wash- 
mgton. By so doing, our cata- 
logue cf reminiscences will be 
enriched by one of the most 
delightful jaunts imaginable — an expedition leading through 
old 'Boston Town' and the incidental trip to Lexington and 
Concord. 

I suppose that every visitor to Boston in these days — 
except it be the traveling salesman — comes well stocked 
with a fund of information and a hat-full of great expecta- 
tions. He knows all about the Old State House, the Monu- 
ment and Faneuil Hall; he has formed a vivid mental pic- 
ture of the famous 'Common' and the old North Church ; 
and — besides the purpose of realizing history — he has pre- 
pared himself for a literary feast among the book-shops of 
'the Hub', or an artistic seance at the Public Library, where 
the murals of Abbey and Sargent will completely captivate 
his heart. And surely in Boston, the "Athens of America," 
— whose literary character is vitalized by a liberal inter- 
mingling of Spartan blood- — every pilgrim will find that for 
which he came a-seeking — and much more. 

In many respects the old red-brick State House on 
Washington Street, in the ancient and hopelessly congested 
quarter of the town, is the most historic building in Boston. 
It was built in 1713 and as the Province Court House it 
figured conspicuously in the days prior to and immediately 
preceding the Revolution. From the little balcony over- 
looking State Street, the Declaration of Independence was 
read to the people of the city after the British had been 
expelled, and within these old walls John Hancock was in- 
augurated first governor of the Commonwealth of Massa- 
chusetts. The site of the 'Boston Massacre' of March 5th, 
1770, is not far distant, being indicated by the peculiar 



166 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



round paving near the intersection of State Street and 
Exchange. 

The wharves of Boston and the streets adjourning, — 
with the offices of shippers, importers and dealers in mari- 
time suppHes — are very interesting. India Street and Fleet 
Street smack of foreign shores; the famous Long 

W h a r f , ( beneath 
v.hich now runs the 
tunnel to East Bos- 
ton ) was once-upon- 
a-time the . landing 
place of all the nota- 
ble servants of the 
Crown who came 
from over-seas to the 
colony f Massa- 
chusetts Bay; while 
it was at the now 
V a n i s h e d Grif- 
fin's Wharf that the 
obnoxious cargo of 
taxable tea was 
spilled. The precise 
spot where the 'Tea 
Party' incident took 
place is now far in- 

STATE HOUSE, BOSTON. MASS. ^^^^ ^ ^ ^^^Ict at the 

Insert, statue of Sanmel Adams, in Adams Square COHlCr f AtlautlC 

Avenue and Pearl Street telling the humorous story of the 
event. In the course of the city's development, the water 
Ime has been pushed far out into the bay and the Fort 
Point Channel ; so that, strange as it may seem, the actual 
spot where the aromatic cargo was thrown into the water is 
now solid ground. 

Adams Square is the heart of Boston; here stands 
what is perhaps the most expressive monument to any of 




IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



167 




GRIFFINS WHARF 

AT WHICH KVPIIIOUD 0" Dtt ll.l77J,IH«t[ BRITISH SHIPS WITH CASEOCS Of Tt». 
TO OtrCAT Kins ttORCfS TRIVIAL BUT TTRAHMICAl. TAX OF TIHH fCHCt A POUHO, 

ABOUT HoitTY cmztiis or bostoh.parilv disguised as INDIANS, boabdeo tw ships, 

THMW THE MSOOtS.IHRIt HUNOdlXI AHO FORTY TWO CHESTS IN AILINTO THE SEA 
AHO nut THE WOllll) KINO WITH THE PATRIOTIC tIPlOIT OF THE 

BOSTON TEA PARTY 

#"1101 nc'EitwAS nmoiEo sucn a omuchi 
V mPAUCE.HAlL.ORARIOR. 

AS rREEHENBUWED AND TYRANTS QUAFFED 
THAT niGHT IN BOSTON HAIBW " 



THK -TKA TABLET' — BOSTi 



the New England patriots, — Miss Whitney's statue of 
Samuel Adams, represented in the plain dress of a citizen, 
with folded arms and face finely indicative of determined 
purpose, much as he must have looked when — confronting 
Governor Hutchinson after the massacre of 1770, — he de- 
manded the instant re- 
moval of the royal 
troops. 

Nearby is Faneuil 
Hall, where ineffectual 
protests shaped them- 
selves into deeds. Still 
fulfilling the original 
intent of Peter Faneuil, 
its donor, the first floor 
and basement of this 
rather singular structure serve the purposes of a public 
market, surrounded on all sides by a community of produce 
and commission merchants. By day. amid these purely 
utilitarian environs, — swarming with carts and drays, bar- 
gaining housewives and scurrying urchins — much of the 
noble significance of Faneuil Hall is lost. Vociferating 
hucksters and crates of green-goods are out of harmony with 
fire-breathing oratory and Puritan patriotism. 

You will be well favored by fortune, if — by chance — 
she plays a trick upon you like that which made memorable 
one of my own 'first impressions' of Boston some years ago. 
Late in the evening I was prowling around the lower section 
of the town, after the fashion set by Baghdad's famous 
Caliph, trying to lose myself in the labyrinth of old lanes 
for which this portion of the city is noted. Thus it was that 
I came, quite unexpectedly, face-to-face with the seemingly 
spectral apparition of Faneuil Hall in its most favorable 
mood and familiar likeness. Abrupt as was the introduc- 
tion, the sturdy old ghost seemed so honest and friendly that 
I felt inclined to extend my hand in greeting. 



168 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



Faneuil Hall, in its present form, 
is an expansion of the original edifice 
of 1742. In 1805 it was raised one 
fcitory and doubled in width, but to all 
intents and purposes its walls are the 
same that rang with the eloquence of 
B o s t o n's earnest 
champions of liber- 
ty; as such a Tem- 
ple of Freedom, we 
may well regard it 
with veneration. 
Seen in the silver 
radiance of a quiet 
moonlit night (and 
this part of the 
town, — like lower 
New York City — is 
very still after busi- 
ness hours ) Faneuil 
Hall comes up to 
and beyond expec- 
tations. Within this 
hall, gaily illuminated, a joyful throng gathered in 1766 to 
celebrate the repeal of the Stamp Act; here in 1774, General 
Gage, the new governor, was received with some degree of 
hope; during the blockade of Boston the British staged 
amateur theatricals upon its inspired platform; and amid 
the great excitement of anti-slavery days eighty years later, 
men like Chas. Sumner and Wm. Lloyd Garrison have here 
stirred their audiences to depths of emotion. Little won- 
der then, if — on occasion — some of the spirits of the illustri- 
ous departed meet together here in phantom reunion. In 
troublous times like those of the present, it may be that 
the shades of good old Adams and Hancock and Otis discuss 
in strict confidence the 'railroad tie-up' or the 'high cost of 




FANEUIL HALL— BOSTON 

Famous for its wealth of historic associations. In 
the upper floor the Ancient and Honorable Artillery 
Company of Boston, formed in 1637, and the oldest 
military organization in America, still maintain their 
armory. 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



169 



.\v\. i;i':Yf:]!E 

iiiul the 
little house he 
called home 



living', heartily pitying us mortals of the present clay who 
know not when to be satisfied. 

Many of us have regarded Paul Revere as more or less 
of a mythological character; a sort of 'John Gilpin' in 
American history. Contrary to this notion, the visitor to 
New England will soon become convinced that this worthy 
Bostonian was a very real personage, and that he truly and 
worthily performed the exploits for which he has been given 
credit. At numbers 19—21 North Square, we may still see 
his humble cottage, carefully preserved and fittingly in- 
scribed. It is said to be the oldest building in the city, and 
was erected about 1676, on the site of the par- 
sonage of Dr. Increase Mather, that begowned 

bigot of the 17th 
century, who 
possessed much 
'religion' b u t 
precious little 
Christian chari- 
ty. 

Christ Episco- 
pal Church, in 
Salem Street, is 
claimed by some 
to be the 'Old North', from the belfry of which the signal 
lanterns were displayed — as described in Longfellow's poem 
— warning the waiting horseman and a few trusted citizens 
of Charlestown that the 'red-coats' were up to mischief. 
More probably, the now vanished church which stood on 
North Square — and which was the only 'North Church' in 
1775, deserved this distinction. As to Revere's famous ride, 
the accepted narrative is strictly true with this exception: 
he never reached Concord, being intercepted beyond Lex- 
ington and held prisoner by the British for some hours. But 
he had had ample time to warn the inhabitants of the inter- 
vening hamlets, and by his lusty voice to rouse brethren 




170 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 

Hancock and Adams, who were soundly sleeping at the 
Clark House in Lexington. Undoubtedly it was Paul Re- 
vere's foresight that insured for the invaders the warm re- 
ception which greeted them on the morrow. 

I am not altogether facetious in my use of the term 
"brethren" as applied to the worthy John Hancock and 
Samuel Adams. Both they, Paul Revere, and a surprising- 
number of our notable Revolutionary heroes were members 
of the Masonic Fraternity, and undoubtedly the lofty prin- 
ciples of that organization fitted well with their own sterling 
characters and the high cause for which they fought. 

There are few, if any, existing souvenirs of Washing- 
ton himself in the great modern city of Boston. Boston 
was a British stronghold and a refuge for those of royalist 
leanings from the opening of hostilities until the evacuation, 
and Washington figures chiefly in the role cf besieger, oper- 
ating from without. This being the case, we may not per- 
mit ourselves to tarry longer in the city, however strong may 
be the inclination, but must repair to its now populous su- 
burbs. W^e cannot do better than to follow the "clattering 
hoof-beats" of Revere, out over the Charles and the Mystic, 
to Lexington — the scene of the first break between Mother 
England and her unruly offspring. 

The triangular village green of Lexington remains to- 
day in about the same condition as it was when, in the small 
hours of that famous April morning, the militia began to 
assemble at this rendezvous from every little hamlet of the 
adjacent countryside in answer to the message of the mid- 
night rider. Still 'ranged around it are half a dozen of the 
houses that witnessed the two phases cf the initial struggle 
of the Revolution; first, the incident of Major Pitcairn's 
men firing upon the rebels who declined to disperse upon 
request; second, the fighting retreat of the British as they 
were returning from Concord — made miserable by the 
'dogging' of the minute-men. 

Lexington is directly upon the road to Concord, the 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



171 



objective of the British in their decidedly hostile attempt 
to appropriate or destroy the munitions of war which the 
Americans had there collected. The existing monuments 
on Lexington Common tell interestingly the two-part tale 
of how the patriot farmers 'got a whack at the enemy' both 
coming and going, for the green of to-day was the battle- 
ground of 1775. Here you will see the famous boulder mark- 
ing the spot where Captain Parker ex- 
horted the provincials to stand their 
ground, now suitably carved with rep- 
resentation of flint-lock and powder- 
horn. The bronze statue of the 'Min- 
ute-man' with the drinking fountain 
behind it, which now adorns the east- 
ern end of the Lexington green, occu- 
pies the site o f the Revolutionary 
Meeting House; while the now van- 
ished place of worship is commemo- 
rated by a stone pulpit where- 
on lies a closed volume — pre- 
sumably representing the 
'Good Book', — although why 
it should be closed I cannot 
conjecture, for surely we of 
the present generation are in 
no whit more Godly than the 
old-time worshippers of the 
New England village. 

On the Bedford road we 
see the antiquated battle 
monument built in 1835, now 
somewhat the worse for wear, 
but adorned by a kindly man- 
tle of English ivy. Beneath 
it lie the honored remains of 
the victims of the encounter. 



CHRIST CHURCH, 

SALEM STREET, 

— BOSTON — 

From the belfry of 
which General Gage 
witnessed the Battle 
of Bunker Hill, and 
which is claimed by 
.some to be the place 
where Revere'.s lan- 
terns were hung. 




172 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 




THE LEXINGTON MINUTEMAN 



brought hither from their original place of interment in the 
village cemetery. The graveyard itself is just off the green; 
here you will see carved upon the stones the familiar names 
of almost every old family in the village. The popular ma- 
terial for 'down East' tombstones in the olden days was a 
blue, slate-like stone of fine texture, and many of these slabs 
have weathered the storms of two centuries with few visible 
signs of decay — except their tendency to lean forward, back- 
ward or sideways, like Revolutionary sentries tired with a 
long vigil. 

The best known house in Lexington is the beautiful 
colonial Harrington homestead, to the threshold of which 
its master, wounded in the battle on the green, dragged him- 
self with the strength of desperation, only to die a moment 
later in the arms of his wife, who had been a witness of the 
combat. He was one of the eight Americans killed on this 
occasion and he lies, with his fellow martyrs, beneath the 
monument across the park. 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



17? 



The other famous building is a very plain little cottage 
painted brown, a short distance up the Concord road. It is 
the Clark-Hancock House where, as before mentioned, 
Adams and Hancock were awakened in time to permit 
them to decamp before the arrival of the enemy. This is 
where the 'Sight-seeing Autos' from Boston make a pro- 
longed stop, and disgorge their crowds of curious humanity, 
who tramp through the house with great gusto, following a 
guide, who — w^ith raucous voice — expatiates upon the his- 
tory of the town, adding fiction to fact at his own discre- 
tion. 

Most of the boys of Lexington have become contam- 
inated with the money-mad ambition to follow the exam- 
ple of these older knights of the megaphone. No private 
conveyance can pass through the village without being held 
up by these mercenary urchins. Partial as I am to the 
society of boys, I confess 
hearty disgust with my 
own selection. Despite 
my suggestion that he 
tell me all he knew of the 
historic landmarks in a 
straight forward, conver- 
sational way; the little 
rascal persisted in rat- 
tling off a sing-song and 
uninterested formula be- 
fore every house and 
marker, exactly as a soul- 
less parrot prattles about 
crackers and good looks. 
I therefore paid hun to 
desist, and went on my way the happier for his absence. 

From Lexington a trolley-line runs out to Concord- fol- 
lowing the road so eminently historic. The latter town has 
'^ wider interest than Lexington because of its added literan. 




THK HANCOCK CLAKK HOUSE. 
LEXINGTON 



174 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 




THE OLD MANSE' ADJOINING THE CONCORD BRIDGE 

Ralph Waldo Emerson was a son of the Revolutionary divine who lived here 
at the time of the battle. His 'Centenary Ode' and the descriptions of Nathaniel 
Hawthorne, another distinguished tenant, are New England classics. 

iissociations. So many noteworthy men and women of 
letters have either lived or worked at Concord that an en- 
tire section of the Public Library in this highly favored 
community is devoted to the works of Concord authors! 
Emerson, Thoreau, Hawthorne and the Aicotts have all 
labored at Concord and left their stamp of culture in the 
beautiful country village. 

First and foremost among the attractions of Concord 
is the world-famous bridge over the headwaters of the Con- 
cord River. If you have read those portions of Nathaniel 
Hawthorne's "Mosses from an Old Manse" which refer to 
the Concord Fight, any impressions of mine will seem but 
unworthy repetitions. The old parsonage where the Rever- 
end William Emerson lived at the time of the battle, and 
whose musty walls served to inspire Hawthorne's facile peii 
two or three generations later, has become inseparably 
linked with the story of the rude rustic bridge and its pa- 
triot defenders. The old grey manse remains exactly as he 
has described it, — decidedly weather-worn, somewhat som- 
bre, and showing unmistakable signs of neglect; while be- 
yond the area of its shadowing trees and clinging vines, the 
sunlit meadow behind the house slopes gently down to the 
reed-bordered river. 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



175 



You will pass by the open gateway of the 'old manse' 
as you walk out from Concord village along Monument 
Street, turning — after a few more steps — into the short 
avenue, bordered on each side by a double row of fine old 
trees, which leads to the celebrated North Bridge. No- 
where else in America does an historic site come so fully 
up to expectations. Far overhead the tree-tops meet, form- 
ing an arcade of 
verdure, through 
which darkened 
perspective w e 
behold — gleam- 
ing in the bril- 
liant light of the 
mid-day sun — 
the narrow 
bridge and its 
monuments, one 
on either side 
the stream. The 
eld obelisk 
marking the 
British position, 
set in a patch of 
green at the near '^^^ ^'^^^^ ceSient bridge at concord 

end of the bridge, is somewhat shaded by the trees, but the 
'Minute-man' across the creek stands out boldly in the sun- 
shine, recalling the fact that at the hour of noon, on that 
eventful April day, the four hundred and fifty Americans 
here opposed the passage of the enemy. 

The present bridge is a replica, in permanent concrete, 
of the old structure of former days, and the path across it 
ends abruptly in a little flower-bordered plot around the 
Minute-man, as though to inform you that your quest had 
terminated. Indeed, once you have arrived here, any wan- 
dering farther afield is unnecessary, for this is the fountain- 




176 * IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 

head of all the epic poetry and proverbial patriotism that 
America supplies. The early morning encounter at Lexing- 
ton had been rather one-sided, but here a decisive action 
was fought which turned Major Pitcairn and his regiments 
back toward Boston. "They shall not pass" was the de- 
termination of Colonel Barrett and everyone of his men, 
who — true to their trust, like Horatius of old — had kept the 
bridge. Of this spirit, the familiar statue of the 'Concord 
Minute-man' is indicative. 

It is difficult to state just how numerous were the 
casualties in the Battle of Concord, as the British brought 
off most of their seriously wounded. At least two of King 
George's men were buried near the spot where they fell and 
a tablet in the rough stone wall separating the 'Old Manse' 
farm from the road marks the place of their interment. The 
fitting words of Emerson's 'Centenary Ode' were inspired, of 
course, by an intimate knowledge of a locality within ear- 
shot of his study window, and these are they "who came 
three thousand miles and died — to keep the past upon it s 
throne." "The rude bridge that arched the flood" was for 
him a daily reminder of times past, and the echo of "the 
shot heard round the world" was about the only discordant 
note to make sweeter by contrast the harmony of his finely 
attuned and philosophical mind. 

Concord possesses so many places of varied interest 
that a hurried visit is simply tantalizing. In the very heart 
of a purely intellectual community where old tree-stumps 
and historic gravestones are preserved with reverential care, 
where every other building has an historic or literary in- 
terest, a week might well be spent with pleasure and profit. 
In the village proper is the old Wright Tavern, which was 
the meeting place of the patriots before the battle, and 
where, a few hours later, Major Pitcairn of His Majesty's 
Marines indulged in a liberal dram of grog to warm his 
vitals for the unpleasant business of the day. Almost op- 
posite is the Parish Church, and behind it the Sleepy Hoi- 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



177 



low Cemetery with the much visited graves of Emerson and 
Hawthorne. Thoreau's haunt, the famous Walden Pond, 
is not far distant ; here the Pantheist may roam among the 
glades so often trodden by that strange lover of the wild- 
wood; while the disciple of Unitarianism — that branch of 
theology which seems to reconcile hard-headed reasoning 
with our heart longings — will find in and around Concord 
a multitude of those like-minded, and may visit the shrines 
where the independent thinkers of New England evolved 
the widely criticised 'Concord Philosophy' a half century 
and more ago. 

After the repulse at Concord Bridge, the retreat of the 
British toward Boston gradually assumed the proportions 
of a disastrous rout. Their pursuers, ever increasing in 
numbers, lost no opportunity for retaliation. Running the 
gauntlet of unmer- 
ciful torment at 
Medford, Lexing- 
ton, Billerica and 
all the way into 
the city, the raid- 
ers finally reached 
their haven of 
safety in a state of 
distress and ex- 
haustion which 
would have been 
pitiable under other circumstances. So well had they 
learned their lesson, that a similar expedition was never 
again undertaken. 

Following closely upon the encounters at Lexington and 
Concord had occurred the battle of Bunker Hill. Like a 
swarm of disturbed hornets, the patriots had gathered upon 
the hills outside Boston, where they immediately began to 
throw up earthworks. General William Howe, who had 
several good British regiments in the city, was not at all 




THE WRIGHT TAVERN, CONCORD, BUILT IN 1747. 



178 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 




GRAVE OF THE BRITISH SOLDIERS, NEAR CONCORD BRIDGE. 
Stable and grounds of the Old Manse' in the background. 

pleased with the proximity of such a numerous and hostile 
array ahnost within musket shot of his fleet anchored in the 
Charles; and when, on June 16th, Colonel Prescott with 
twelve hundred men had the audacity to fortify Bunker 
Hill and Breed's Hill — almost under his nose — he deter- 
mined to drive the Americans out of their positions. 

The modern 'Bunker Hill Monument' is located on 
Breed's Hill in the heart of Charlestown, commemorating 
the defeat which was practically a victory. On the spot 
where the Americans twice repulsed the attacking columns 
and where they would have maintained their ground in- 
definitely had their powder held out, the great stone obelisk^ 
221 feet in height, rises above the city and overlooks a wide 
panorama of the country round about. This granite shaft 
was completed in 1842 after seventeen yeprs of building. 
Its corner-stone was laid by Lafayette in 1825, and Daniel 
Webster was the orator of the day on both that occasion 
and its final dedication. 

Carefully read , the story of the battle of Bunker Hill, 
leaves two impressions ; the first as to the general character 
of the combatants and the objects for which they fought; 
the second as to the individual deeds of heroism on the part 
of the respective leaders. 

Did it ever occur to you that the patriots had no flag 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



179 




that day? —that 'they were an outlawed band of men ivith- 
out a country, fighting that they might have one? On the 
other hand, the troops opposed to them were the best in 
the world; with all the prestige back of them that able 
officers and the 
ensign of mighty 
England could 
give. 

Gage was the 
nominal c o m - 
mander in Bos- 
ton, hut he con- 
tented himself 
v/ith the role of 
'mihtary observ- 
er', while Gener- 
al Howe led his 
troops in person 
— t h r e e times 
facing death in 
their midst, — his 
silk stockings be- 
draggled with the blood of his own brave grenadiers, which 
liafl reddened the tall grass where they fell. 

Dr. Joseph Warren stands out as the patriot martyr of 
the day. Although a general officer by appointment of the 
Provincial Assembly, he placed himself as a private under 
the orders of Col. Prescott, as did old General Pomeroy 
v/ith his seventy years of experience. Warren was but 
thirty-five. Thus we find youth and age, wealth and pover- 
ty, rank and yeomanry, intermingling and fighting side by 
side behind the American breastworks, with all thoughts of 
precedence subservient to the common cause. Stark and 
Putnam were there too, with Knowlton and Reed, all of 
v.hom were destined to come through the first fiery trial m 
keeping for future deeds of valor. But Warren's first battle 



COPPS HILL BURYING GROUND. BOSTON. 

Tomb on the right is that of the 'Rfverend Mathers'. Here 
were mounted in 177.5 the British batteries which fired Charle.s- 
town during the Battle of Bunker Hill, and opposite, there stood 
untd reeeiitly the Galloupe House, occupied by General Gage 
during the early part of the siege. 



180 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



was his last, and to-day — in the memorial building at the 
foot of the great monument — a statue keeps green the 
memory of the patriot-physician and a stone in the ground 
nearby marks the spot where he fell. Prescott himself is 
kept in remembrance by a bronze figure, garbed in the 
unconventional attire he wore dur- 
ing the battle, — the comfortable 
sombrero of a farmer and long 
seersucker coat of a 
rustic. The repres- 
sive gesture of 
the left hand 
calls to mind his 
orders to the ri- 
flemen to hold 
their fire until 
the enemy were 
almost upon them. 
Although driven 
from his position because re- 
inforcements and powder 
failed, Prescott implored 
General Ward upon the fol- 
lowing day to provide him 
with sufficient troops to retake 
the hill. But old Artemas was 
rather more conservative and 
decided that the proposition was 
too risky. Warren was buried on the field of battle, but in 
the following year his remains were removed to Boston, 
where they now^ repose in Forest Hills Cemetery. 

A climb up two-hundred and ninety-five tiresome steps 
will bring the visitor to the observatory near the top of the 
monument. Below lies Charlestown, Boston, the Bay 
stretching seaward, and the historic rivers. Comparison 
of one of the old-time maps with the present lay-out of the 




The Buiikt'i- Hill Monument 
at Charlestown — Boston, Mast<. 
DR. .JOSEPH WARREX, 
hero of Bunker Hill. 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



181 



city might cause some degree of wonder to the uninitiated, 
for the reason that many of the hills in and about Boston 
have been levelled and the present Back Bay section of the 
city itself is built mostly upon ground reclaimed from the 
marshland of early days. Modern buildings also have a 
tendency to pull down the apparent height of elevations 
which were in former times considered strategic, and to the 
visitor of the present day Dorchester Heights and Winter 
Hill, — which the patriots soon occupied as they threw a 
cordon of besieging works around beleaguered Boston— seem 
comparatively insig- 
nificant. 

T o Cambridge, 
just eight miles out- 
side of Boston — with 
the River Charles 
b e t w e e n — c a m e 
Washington on the 
2nd of July, 1775, 
here to assume the 
chief command o f 
the army and to set- 
tle down to the form- 
ing of plans for the 
expulsion of the 
British.* 

Cambridge pos- 
sesses a great wealth 
of material for the 
student of our Revo- 
lutionary history, 
vv'hich is appreciated 
fully as much by her own cultured citizens as by the transient 
visitor. Like most other old New England towns, Cam- 




Old Milestone, First Parish Churchyard, Cambridge. 

One of tlie rffnny set up by Benjamin Franklin 
iilong the roads leading to Boston, while Deputy 
Postmaster General of fclie British Colonies and be- 
fore. Their particular purpose was to enable his 
Majfj-ty's mail carriers to measure distances as they 
traveled on the King's business. In order to place 
the stones at proper intervals along the road without 
wearily measuring the distance with a chain, Frank- 
lin devised a contrivance which he attached to his 
carriage-wheel, and which, adding up the revolu- 
tions of the wheel, indicated the distance. This was 
the forerunner of the modern cyclometer and speed- 
ometer. 



* News of the battle of Bunker Hill with an account of the death of Warren and 
the gallant conduct of the militia of Massachusetts had come to Washington shortly 
after his departure from Philadelphia. Upon the receipt of these tidings, Washing- 
ton exclaimed, with great earnestne.ss — "The liberties of the Country are safel" 



182 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 

bridge understands and shares the enthusiasm of the tour- 
ist, and caters to his highest and best Americanism ; whether 
it be in the pursuit of historic knowledge or in the payment 
of homage to her many geniuses of hterature. 

It may be that the presence of Harvard College, whose 
expansion has kept pace with the growth of the community, 
has made of Cambridge something of a 'high brow' among 
her neighbors. The very residence here of the presidents 
and professors of the university, — among whom may be 
numbered Longfellow and Holmes, Lowell, Agassiz and Phil- 
lips Brooks, — would in itself have been sufficient to bestow 
extraordinary eclat upon the town. Worthy John Harvard 
endowed the institution in 1638, and, ever since, Cambridge 
has displayed a dignified character in strict keeping with in- 
tellectual Boston across the river. 

Many of the fine old houses of the town are very strik- 
ing. The passer-by will remark many a curtained window- 
ledge adorned with a row of books, lending an unquestioned 
air of distinction to the premises and emphasizing the fact 
— known to all publishers- — that Massachusetts is the best 
book-buying state in the union. The dilettante visiting 
Cambridge, noting at once these evidences of a taste in com- 
mon with his own, feels immediately in his element and 
prepares to enjoy to the full the sweets of refinement. 

Among the vast group of buildings comprising Harvard 
University, that possessing the greatest interest for us is old 
''Massachusetts Hall,'' from the fact that it is contemporary 
with the times of which we write. Erected in 1720, it was 
a silent partner in the enterprise of liberty, for within its 
substantial brick walls many of the hastily assembled levies 
were barracked. Just a few rods distant is the Wadsworth 
House, used from the days of Dr. Benjamin Wadsworth to 
those of Edward Everett as the residence of the college 
presidents ; here too, immediately after reaching Cambridge. 
Washington established his headquarters, and remained for 
a little time until a more commodious dwelling could be 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



183 



provided. It is a simple wooden structure with gambrel 
roof, built on the outer fringe of the campus, immediately 
adjourning the newly erected Widener Memorial Library, 
which splendid building perpetuates the memory of young 
Harry Elkins Widener of Philadelphia who went down to an 

untimely death on 
the ill-fated Ti- 
tanic in 1912. 

Much could be 
written concerning 
Harvard, but 
space forbids. Vis- 
ited during the 
school year, you 
will most likely 
meet some very in- 
teresting boys, who 
will gladly escort 
you about the 
grounds, through 
the college build- 

Old •ilii^iu-husetts Hall— Hai-vai-fl College. iugS, Or eVSn shoW 

you the 'live spots' in the town itself, with a simple youth- 
ful enthusiasm which is refreshing, and many comments 
from their own up-to-the minute viewpoint which will 
mean a great deal to you. In summer you will encounter a 
different class of students. There are many short special 
courses arranged for those of all ages and both sexes who 
wish to avail themselves of the opportunity for self-im- 
provement, and it will do you good to meet some of the 
men and women of mature years who are still young enough 
to expand their mental horizons. Above all things, leave 
the college grounds by the west gate, and as you pass out, 
read the words inscribed upon the arch above and treasure 
the admonition in your heart — "Depart, better to serve thy 
country and thy kind." 




184 



IX FREEDOIVrS CAUSE 




Wiulsvvorth Hous^c. Cambridge — Formerly residence of tlie 

Presidents of Harvard University. 
This was Washington's first headquarters at Cambridge. 



It is conceded that the famous 'old ehii' at 
Cambridge, beneath which Washing- 
ton stood when he assumed com- 
mand of the army on ^ Jm^^\ 
July 3rd, 1775, 
the most note 
worthy natur- 
al landmark of 
Revolutionary 
New England. 
Contrary t o 
general opin- 
ion, this ven- 
erable tree 
still lives, and 
what remains 

of it is apparently hale and hearty. It was indeed disfigured 
a few years ago when a wide-spreading section, perhaps a 
third part of its bulk, gave way before the roughness of the 
elements; but the goodly portion which yet remains may, 
with a little care, be preserved for another half century at 
least. Surrounded by an iron railing, with its simple white- 
stone marker, it occupies a little insular plot of greensward 
in the middle of the old Boston road, in so conspicuous a 
situation that there is no fear of its being overlooked by 
any passing traveler. 

History tells us that the ceremonies connected with 
Washington's assumption of office were fittingly brief, and 
that the impressive episode beneath the elm. which has been 
so often described and depicted was soon concluded. From 
the countryside for miles around had assembled crowds of 
curious spectators to view the person of the famous Vir- 
ginian ; the army being drawn up in review across the Green 
f )r the occasion. With W^ashington were probably Generals 
Charles Lee and Artemas W^ard, two of the newly elected 
Brigadiers, the latter of whom had, up to this time, been the 



IX FREEDOM'S CAUSE 185 

acknowledged leader of the patriot forces operating around 
Boston. On this, the initial appearance of Washington as 
commander-in-chief, he did little more than to display his 
i^ugust personage, — tastefidly attired in blue and buff "with 
rich epaulets and a black cockade in his hat" — and officially 
to unsheathe his sabre with dignified significance. 

The so-called 'little army', over which Washington had 
been called to take command, was by no means so insignifi- 
cant as might be supposed; there were, perhaps, fourteen 
thousand men quartered hi and around Cambridge in the 
summer of 1775, a much larger force than he was to have 
nt his disposal two years later. True, they were exceedingly 
poor as regards equipment, but their morale ran high: as yet 
no great disasters had befallen the cause they represented, 
and — as a nucleus of the military organization which was to 
defend the rights of America- they were not to be despised. 
As to this, the British were already willing to attest. 

The first duties of the new leader were clearly evident. 
The intensive blockade of Boston must be continued, and 
the enthusiasm and loyalty of the troops — of which there 
was an abundance — must be turned to good account by the 
speedy co-operation of cannon and ammunition, which were 
as yet conspicuous by their absence. 

During the interim between 'Lexington' and the ar- 
rival of Washington on the scene had occured those spec- 
tacular exploits of Ethan Allen at Ticonderoga, Seth Warner 
at Crown Point, and Benedict Arnold at St. Johns, which 
have invested Lakes George and Champlain with undying 
interest. All of this beautiful 'lake region' was therefore 
under the absolute control of the New Englanders in the 
fall of 1775, and from this quarter it was determined to 
draw the ordnance necessary to oust the British from their 
snug headquarters in Boston town. To young Henry Knox, 
former book-seller of Boston, and volunteer in the colonial 
army, was intrusted the herculean task of bringing down 
this artillery from the scattered and decayed fortifications 



186 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



along the Canadian border. This he accompUshed mid the 
rigours of winter and in so doing 'won his spurs', for ever 
thereafter he was near to the heart of Washington and 
throughout the war was pre-eminently the artillery chief 
upon whom the commander relied. 

But other less- fortunate events soon transpired in the 
Northland during that fateful first winter of the Revolu- 
tion, and before spring came a more serious turn had been 
given to affairs by the failure of the ill-advised enterprise 
against the British posts in Canada, wherein Montgomery 
and Arnold were defeated before the walls of Quebec. On 
the last day of December, 1775, the former lost his life in a 
desperate attempt to scale the walls of the Canadian citadel, 
and Arnold — griev- 
ously wounded — 
had barely been 
able to withdraw 
his forces without 
a crushing disaster. 
It seems strange 
that AVashington 
gave his sanction 
to this foolhardy 
enterprise, but it 
appears that he did 
not realize the 
full extent of the 
difficulties to be 
encountered. None 
more than he re- 
gretted the pre- 
mature death of poor Montgomery, and it is quite evident 
that ever after, throughout the long period of the war. 
prudence — rather than the chance success which might at- 
tend brilliant though risky enterprises — was the confirmed 
course of the Commander-in-Chief. We shall have no oc- 




In Renienil)raiice of the attempt that failed. 
— Memorial Tablet at Stratton, Maine — 

(Courtesy of Prank A. Kraus. 



.Ir.) 



iiN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 187 

imsion to revert to the Canadian campaign in the course of 
our narrative, but it may be of interest to those who read 
these pages to look upon the picture of a memorial stone, 
erected in the backwoods of Maine, reminiscent of the pass- 
ing of Colonel Benedict Arnold and the patriots who tried 
and failed. 

Meanwhile Washington, still at Cambridge, had taken 
up his permanent headquarters in the spacious Vassall 
mansion on the old Watertown Road — now Brattle Street. 
This elegant residence was one of several which had been 
the homes of those Royalist gentry who had discreetly re- 
tired to Boston when the patriots became active. Thus va- 
cated, they afforded very acceptable housings for the in- 
creasing number of officers who, with their suites, gathered 
around the general base of mobilization. For eight months 
Washington made his home in this delightful manse, which 
has since come in for added literary fame through the long 
residence here, from 1837 to 1882, of the poet Henry Wads- 
worth Longfellow. Painted tastefully in a pleasing combi- 
nation of white and pale yellow, surrounded by an ample 
garden, with a clear parkway before its entrance-gate 
stretching down to the banks of the Charles, it is one of the 
beauty spots of New England. 

Likewise is this elegant mansion rich in history. One 
hundred and sixty eventful years have passed over it with- 
out perceptible blemish. Before Washington's occupancy, 
Glover's Marblehead regiment had been billeted in its 
stately apartments; after the Revolution — when it came 
into possession of Dr. Andrew Craigie, who had been the 
Apothecary General to Washington's army — it offered hos- 
pitality to the famous Talleyrand, Napoleon's shrewd Min- 
ister of State . Here also lodged Jared Sparks, the eminent 
biographer of Washington, (when in later years. Dr. Craig- 
ie's widow maintained a boarding-place for college profes- 
sors and other 'Brahmans' of the university town). It was 
in the humble role of a 'roomer' that Longfellow first set 



188 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 




THK ('KAIGIK-L()N(;FKLIA)W house, CAMBRIDGK 
An umiMiitl vipw from the garden 

foot ill the mansion which he was later enabled to purchase 
('iitright. It does one good to contemplate the spectacle of 
." man of letters in a position of easy affluence: this was the 
happy situation of the genial author of 'Tales of a Wayside 
Iim" during the greater part of his life in Cambridge. 

The poet's study was the room which Washington had 
used as a private office, just to the right of the entrance on 
the ground floor. My photograph, taken from an unfamiliar 
angle, shows its two open windows. The corner chamber, 
directly above, is said to have been the sleeping apartment 
of the Commander. 

Despite its memories of great Washington, the 'Cam- 
Iridge Headquarters' impresses more forcefully of the poet 
than of the warrior. About the premises lingers such an 
aura of tranquility that in contemplation of the fine old 
colonial doorway we think rather of the picturesque Long- 
fellow with snowy beard smiling a kindly greeting to little 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 189 

children, than of the sterner Washmgton issuing directions 
to scurrying orderlies. Whatever there was of sentiment 
about the Vassall House during the military regime was 
probably supplied by Lady Washington, who came to Cam- 
bridge for the first of her several transient abodes by the 
side of her illustrious partner "for better or for worse." 
True to her inborn traditions of Southern hospitality, she 
utilized the drawing-room of the mansion to good purpose, 
and here held a number of receptions for the select social 
circle of officers and ladies attached to the Cambridge 
camp. 

If Washington was grave and pre-occupied during these 
days, it was not without reason. Someone has said that it 
is not easy to see how he survived the year 1775, worried to 
a point of distraction by the colonial poverty, the exasper- 
ating annoyances, the outspoken criticisms, the continual 
dissensions in Congress, and the selfishness and stupidity 
of those in high places, which hampered his every effort to 
guide war-like preparations in widely separated parts of 
the country, and to create an efficient military system for a 
people entirely unaccustomed to such a thing. 

From Cambridge, under date of September 21st, 1775, 
we have his letter to Congress indicating that already the 
war-time responsibilities and troubles had come in earnest. 
He tells of the want of discipline, the evils of short term en- 
listments, the lack of almost everything necessary to 'run' 
an army — the same story we shall hear told and retold a 
hundred times during the course of the struggle. Congress 
never set a pace for promptitude, and Washington, through- 
out the Revolution, was continually at his wits' end to in- 
duce the remittance of funds and the supply of necessaries. 

What was the type of 'the man in the ranks' during our 
struggle for independence? We, — who have recently wit- 
nessed the phenomenon of a great army in which business- 
nien and students, aristocrats and day-laborers, have met 
upon a common level and have been welded into a great 



190 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



effective unit — are prone to speculate as to the personnel 
of the Continental Army. 

As has been indicated, the short term enlistment was 
the thorn in the side of Washington, and volunteers of this 
type constituted the greater part of the army of 1775-76. 
The later augmentations were largely state levies, consisting 
for the most part of conscripted men, whose terms of service 
depended upon the duration of the war. Each province had 
also its regularly organized local militia, which was often 
separate and distinct from the army 
of Congress. In many instances, 
when the emergency warranted, 
these bodies of troops acted solely 
under the instructions of state offi- 
cials or their own accredited officers. 
As in the case of General Stark's 
'Green Mountain Boys' at Benning- 
ton and Bemis Heights, they invari- 
ably fought with great valor, for it 
was for them a matter of defending 
homes and firesides. 

Over three-quarters of the boys 
of '76 were farmers or farmers' sons. 
We have but to recall the fact that 
Mother England did not encourage 
manufacturing in the American col- 
onies to comprehend this situation. 
Plain, honest and courageous, the 
lads of English or Dutch ancestry 
who formed the backbone of the 
patriot army were, as a whole, a 
sturdy type of frontiersmen. The officers were largely 
drawn from the so-called 'upper classes', for then, even as 
in our day. there existed a trace of distinction between the 
varied strata of humanity both in private and public life. 
Many men of prominence throughout the provinces having 




ONE OP GLOVER'S MEN 
This bronze statue of .Tohn Rus- 
sell, a soldier of Colonel John 
Glover's Maspat-husetts Ri gi- 
ment, (often referred to as 'Mar- 
blehead Fishermen') adorns the 
entrance to the Trenton BattK' 
Monument. It is typical of the 
'man in the ranks' of the Con- 
tinental Army. 

(Wm. Rudolf O' Donovan, 
Sculptor) 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



191 



had previous military experience in the Colonial Wars, or — 
as civilians — being patriotically inclined and well regarded 
in their particular communities, formed companies in their 
own bailiwicks, and usually went out with them into active 
service, commanding in person. Hence the frequent refer- 
ences to "Marion's men," "Maxwell's New Jersey Brigade" 
or "Glover's Massa- 
chusetts fisher- 
men." 

As to the gen- 
eral officers of the 
army, every one of 
them was a volun- 
teer, and all were 
men of sterling wort h 
though represent- 
ing many walks of 
life and shades of 
character, from the 
lordly Washington 
and the devout 
Muhlenburg to the 

Monument to Gen. Hugh ilereer at Fredericksburg, Va., 
rough -and- ready erected V^y the united States Government in 1906, in 

fultillment of a long forgotten appropriation, made for 
jVIorffan. that purpose over a hundred years ago 

Congress, in issuing commissions to the brigadier gen- 
erals, was influenced by many motives of policy, too. Each 
state had its popular heroes and demanded that recognition 
be awarded them. Washington himself was not averse to 
turning to his personal friends when he needed trustworthy 
men for high places and, in this connection, it is interesting 
to remember that the old city of Fredericksburg, — virtually 
the 'home town' of Washington — furnished two native sons 
who bore the title of General. Dr. Hugh Mercer conducted 
a drug shop in the old building still standing at the corner 
of Main and Amelia Streets, while George Weedon was the 
proprietor of the 'Rising Sun Tavern' a favorite rendezvous 




192 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 

of Washington in the same village. Strange as it may seem 
in this day when 'efficiency' is strangulated by its own in- 
tricacies, the apothecary and the inn-keeper furnished the 
material from which generals were made at short notice, — 
but I suppose that extremity knows no precedent. 

Mercer, who was a first-rate physician and had seen 
service at the side of Washington in the French War, proved 
to be a good selection ; he was a most efficient and capable 
officer and his death at Princeton was a severe blow to the 
patriot cause. A splendid monument at Fredericksburg 
perpetuates his memory. Of Weedon, less can be said. He 
resigned his commission during the Valley Forge winter be- 
cause of some controversy respecting rank, and thereafter 
is only mentioned as a minor figure in the events which 
were purely local to Virginia. 

What is true of Mercer and Weedon, as representing 
officers of high rank, was true of the 'lesser lights' who wore 
the epaulets and exercised authority over others. Good 
officers were so beloved that often discipline suffered ; bad 
officers were so heartily detested that chronic insubordina- 
tion became the order of the day. Among the northern 
troops especially, where there were fewer social extremes, 
the pill of 'obedience to orders' was a particularly bitter one 
to swallow, and the soldiers chafed wretchedly under the un- 
wonted discipline. 

In and around Boston there was, at first, little attemp; 
at vigorous enforcement of army rules and regulations. One 
farmer was a Colonel, his next-door-neighbor a private in 
the ranks. To shake hands and slap each other on the back 
was the natural thing to do. Nevertheless it was unmili- 
tary; and sooner or later the lines of personal equality and 
army etiquette had to be sharply defined. Colonel Prescott, 
who — shortly after 'Bunker Hill' — was seen carrying home 
a quarter of veal, must — if he would command respect and 
obedience — gradually delegate such menial service to some 
orderly; while the captain of horse who at the outset had 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



193 



no hesitancy in shaving the beard of a husky 'doughboy' 
found it necessary to cease his brotherly attentions, if he 
would expect the stern commands of the battlefield to be 
obeyed without question. Thus — in a democratic country 
— the breach between officer and private, opened through 
necessity, has widened into the great gulf which can never 
be bridged with safety. 




General George Weeden's 'Rising Sun Tavenn', Fredericksburg, Va. 

Washington himself was a 'stickler' for discipline. On 
one occasion he expressed concern because of undue famili- 
arity between officers and privates, intimating that the lat- 
ter would ultimately regard their superiors "as no more 
than a broomstick." Just what Washington thought of the 
general run of privates is something of a question, in the 
consideration of which we must bear in mind that he him- 
self was never one who mingled freely with the masses. In 
their proper place, provided they were tractable and faith- 
ful, the soldiers could always count on him for a 'square 
deal,' but he was far from being one of the approachable 
type like Abraham Lincoln. This aloofness was part of his 



194 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 

nature; he was solicitous for the welfare of the soldiers, 
collectively, yet perhaps never took any of them to his 
bosom. 

The pay of the private soldier was then, as now, ex- 
ceedingly meagre. Washington, writing to Congress in Sep- 
tember, 1776, advocated a more liberal remuneration for his 
troopers. Upon his recommendation there was granted to 
each man who should serve throughout the war an addi- 
tional "bounty of twenty dollars and one hundred acres of 
land" with a "yearly suit of clothing" while in service. 
Many of the officers, in lieu of or in addition to their pay, 
received from Congress or the state legislatures very ex- 
tensive grants of real estate. In many cases these large 
tracts of timber or farm land became the basis of an inde- 
pendent fortune to be transmitted to their posterity. The 
searching of old titles reveals many interesting instances of 
this nature. General Knox was greatly profited by reason 
of the able management of his New England grants ; Baron 
Steuben owned a large parcel of ground in Bergen County, 
N. J., acquired in the same way. Quite recently the matter 
was brought home to my own door, so to speak, when I dis- 
covered that one of the small pieces of property owned by 
my father, in Onondaga County, New York, was originally 
part of a grant given by that state to a minor commissioned- 
officer of militia, who had fought with General Herkimer at 
the Battle of Oriskany. 

The Pension Department at Washington has a very 
complete file of the soldiers of the Revolution. Surprising 
as it may seem, it is nevertheless true that the old regiment- 
al records were kept with great accuracy. Far distant as 
these times seem to the casual reader of history, they come 
astonishingly near when one takes the trouble to look up 
the data concerning his own colonial forefathers. Anyone 
desiring to establish his eligibility to membership in the so- 
cities of Revolutionary descendants will find this to be 
true. 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



195 



To me it is a source of pride to be able to say that my 
mother's great-grandfather, John O'Neil, followed Wash- 
ington as a private soldier, serving throughout the entire 
period of the war; yet some folks seem to be devoid of senti- 
ment in this regard. A certain family possessed a fine old 




"THEY GAVE US LIBERTY" 

From Copyright Painting by H. M. Brett. (Acknowledgements to the Osborne 

Company, Newark, N. J., publishers of Art Calendars) 

sabre, positively known to have been carried by a Revolu- 
tionary cavalryman. What, think you, was the fate of the 
historic sword? — a place over the parlor mantle? No in- 
deed. Disgraceful to narrate, it was cut up into butcher 
knives "because it was made of good steel!" — a circum- 
stance almost as ironical as the poet's fancied sacrilege, 
when mayhap "Great Caesar, turned to clay, might stop a 
chink to keep the wind away." 

Charles Knowles Bolton, in his very informative book, 
"The Private Soldier under Washington," has rendered this 
generation a distinct service by his minute recital of the 
daily conditions under which the men in the ranks labored. 



196 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



Quoting always from original authorities, he reveals inter- 
esting details concerning their hardships, recreations, duties, 
rewards and punishments, making a book well worth the 
reading. 

The fact that there was very 'little doing' around Bos- 
ton in the winter of 1775-76 has given me the opportunity 
for rambling hither and yon; now to pick up the story of 
Washington where we left it — 

Spring came with no prospect of relief for the British. 
Had they known that at one time, during those long months 
of inactivity, the Americans had scarce enough powder to 
keep two guns working for half a day, it 
is probable that a successful sortie could 
have been made. Of this condition — it 
is quite evident — they must have been 
blissfully unaware. Meantime the furn- 
aces in the Jersey Hills had been working 
overtime turning out iron balls, some 
powder had been made by the provin- 
cials after a fashion, while still more had 
come in the nick of time from the South 
and from enemy ships captured by 
American privateers. The British were 
free to come and go by sea, and, of 
course, kept in closest possible touch 
with their homeland government, going 
so far — as was revealed by intercepted 
correspondence — as to plan for a diver- 
sion in Virginia, where the discredited 
Dunmore was ever-ready to inflict destruction. Yet they 
remained inactive. 

The siege of Boston came to an abrupt climax, however, 
when the patriots suddenly took up and fortified a com- 
manding position on Dorchester Heights south of the city, 
and planted batteries so alarmingly near the works of the 
enemy that they instantly 'sat up and took notice'. The 




The Monument on 
Dorchester Heights, 
Boston 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 197 

«L'ompliments of a few shells thrown into the city and as 
quickly reciprocated did not mend matters, but rather 
sdarmed the poor civilian population, whose cup of misery, 
already filled to the brim, seemed about to overflow. Gen- 
eral Howe had now to select between the unattractive pros- 
pect of having the city pounded to pieces about his ears, the 
dangerous course of openly attacking the Americans, or the 
humiliating choice of a complete withdrawal from the city 
'while the going was good'. After some half-hearted prepa- 
rations for resistance, he decided to follow the prompting of 
prudence; and intimating to Washington — in a round- 
about way — that the city would be spared further horrors 
if he were allowed to depart in peace, he hastily put his 
troops aboard the royal shipping and set sail for Halifax on 
St. Patrick's Day, March 17th. 1776. So you see that Bos- 
ton may with good reason celebrate the birthday of Ireland's 
]:>atron saint. 

Upon the day following the evacuation, Washington 
^entered the city in triumph. The bloodless victory had been 
well worth the waiting. Church bells pealed, the people 
rejoiced and made merry, and once more old Faneuil Hall 
rang with unrestrained expressions of patriotism, for on that 
day there remained in all the colonies from IMassachusetts 
to Georgia not a single soldier of Great Britain supporting 
?rms in behalf of the disputed authority of George the King. 

There is a monument upon Dorchester Heights, re- 
sembling a detached church tower, which conmiemorates the 
expulsion of the British from Boston. This historic min- 
aret, with the nearby Aquarium and Marine Park, is about 
all the tourist will find to claim his interest in South Boston. 
Roxbury contains many old landmarks of the colonial and 
Revolutionary periods, and the site of 'Roxbury Upper 
Fort', one of the positions in the American lines during the 
siege, is marked by the lofty tower in Highland Park. Every 
one of the towns adjoining Boston has something worth 
v.-hile to offer the student of history; finely preserved old 



198 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



mansions which have sheltered patriot leaders, colonial dig- 
nitaries, or British officers. Should I begin to speak of them 
there would be no stopping. 




THE ENTRANCE TO BOSTON COMMON 
In Revolutionary times the Common was a drilling ground for soldiers, in later 
years a rendezvous for the famous men and women who have made Boston their 
home. The State House, whose dome is seen on the right, occupies the site of the 
ancient 'Beacon Hill'. 

Boston finally in the hands of the Americans, and 
measures taken properly to provide for its defense should 
another attempt be made against it, the thoughts of Wash- 
ington turned to other fields, where, ciuite evidently, some- 
thing unexpected in the way of reprisal might be looked 
for. General Lee had already been dispatched to New York 
City and then sent farther South in anticipation of the un- 
foreseen; Putnam was presently ordered to Manhattan to 
take his place, and Greene was entrusted with the protection 
of Brooklyn and Long Island. Washington himself, push- 
ing the troops before him, came down by way of Providence, 
Norwich and New London, arriving in New York on the 
13th of April. 

The first sign of renewed activity on the part of the 
ousted British came on the 28th of June, when their fleet 
appeared off Charleston, South Carolina, and attempted to 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



199 




A RELIC OF REVOLUTIONARY NEW YORK 

Now adorning "Battery Park." 

Old Cannon excavated in 1892 on the site of 55 Broadway, corner of Exchange Alley, 

where stood the preRcvolutionary fortification called "Oyster Pasty", 1695-1783. 

gain possession of the city. But Colonel Moultrie, aided by 
such heroes as Sergeant Jasper, defended his log fort with 
such energy that the attacking squadron was not sorry to 
withdraw. 

The cause of justice had been well vindicated in the 
year which had elapsed since Washington left Philadelphia: 
soon it was to be a recognized cause of freedom. The transi- 
tion was gradual. While the army had been doing its best, 
the provincial Congress, despite its supineness at times, was 
attempting to fulfill its functions and anticipate in a meas- 
ure, the inevitable course of events. When the liberty bell 
rang out the tidings of proclaimed independence, months of 
thought, and labor, and mental struggle found utterance. 
Thomas Paine, that much-maligned old skeptic, had in his 
'Common Sense' pamphlet done much to prepare the minds 
of the people for this necessary and irrevocable step. Frank- 
Im, Hancock, Adams and Jefferson had been busy for 



200 IX FREEDOM\S CAUSE 

months as a committee to work toward this definite end, 
and the latter had burned the michiight oil for a week as he 
pored over the iiftmortal manuscript of the Declaration. 

No one visits Philadelphia without at least passing In- 
dependence Hall and indulging in a bit of approving mental 
comment because of its inviolate sanctity. During the 
course of the last few years it has been undergoing a series 
of changes, all tending to restore it to its original condition. 
As we see it now, it is practically as it was in 1776.* 

First and foremost among the many objects of venera- 
tion treasured within the brick walls of the State House is 
the liberty bell, that sacred icon of American history. 
Oacked in 1835, while tolling on the occasion of the death 
of Chief Justice !vlarshall, it has occupied a silent place of 
honor for almost a century. That its injury may not be- 
come more serious, the original rift has been widened and 
reamed-out at its termination, and for its protection from 
too-ardent admirers, as well as from thievish relic-hunters, 
a heavy glass cabinet has been built around it. Only on 
some very notable occasion is this removed, and we, being 
but ordinary mortals, must deny ourselves the pleasure ot 
endeavoring to test its tonal quality by rapping upon its 
brazen rim with pocket-knives or umbrella-handles. 

That the liberty bell is dear to American hearts was 
abundantly demonstrated during the strenuous months of 
the World War. In the enthusiasm of popular song, the 
silent hero of the Revolution was besought to ring once 
again, and, depicted upon 'liberty-loan' posters as an incen- 
tive to patriotism, it made its own appeal, — spiritual per- 
haps, but never in vain. 

* Since KfvoUitionary days various "reconstructions' had been inflicted upon Inde- 
pendence Hall; and tlie cxainination of a complete series of old prints illustrative of 
Philadelphia's historic .Stat(t House will reveal a strange series of variations in Us 
appearance. In all of them, however, the central building and the square clock-tower 
have their identity. From 1802 until his death, Charles Wilson Peale, the eminent 
portrait painter and naturalist, utilized the upper floor of the hall for his celebrated 
museum, being granted this privilege, without payment of any rental, by the muni- 
cipality. This truly noteworthy collection of paintings and art objects, together with 
specimens of th(> ta'xidermi<' skill of the collector, bones of extinct mammoth, etc,, wag 
one of the first of its kind in America, the fore-runner of our numerous present day 
exhibits of like character, permanently installed in the larger cities of the country. 



IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 



201 



Then there are the old leather chairs ranged around the 
'Declaration Room', the identical seats occupied by the sign- 
ers, which have one-by-one been acquired from their descen- 
dants. Some show evidence of careful keeping, apparently 
they have always been treated with wholesome respect. 
Others are decidedly the worse for wear, displaying signs of 




THK HKART OV PHILADELPHIA 
Independence Hall, with its bell-tower, in the foreground. 

hai-d usage and neglect, with the dark leather frayed and 
torn and, in one or two cases, the 'stuffings' protruding. 
These historic thrones are marked, wherever possible, with 
the names of their former distinguished occupants. 

The portraits of the men who signed the proclamation 
of liberty are suspended from the walls of the spacious 
chamber. All of them are admirably executed in oil, and, 
we have reason to believe, with every attempt at fidelity. 
What a series of character studies they present to the visitor, 
\.ho approaches softly to examine them in detail! There is 
kindly George Read of Delaware ; gorgeous Lewis Morris of 
New York; George Wythe of Virginia, with bald and intel- 



202 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE • - 

lectual pate ; the devout Charles Carroll of Maryland ; ener- 
getic Dr. Bartlett of New Hampshire; Roger Sherman, the 
sturdy Connecticut farmer; cultured Richard Stockton of 
New Jersey; Arthur Middleton of South Carolina, with 
head bowed in thought; and the honest John Penn of the 
North Carolinian province, who retired a poor man after 
long years of pubUc life. No finer group of statesmen ever 
assembled on God's foot-stool than these representatives of 
the American people, who set their names to the proclama- 
tion of independence. 

None of the military chiefs of the patriot army are 
numbered among the signers, for they were busily employed 
in other quarters, preparing to back by force of arms the 
new vision of an American Commonwealth — a dream which, 
as swiftly as galloping couriers could bear the news, animat- 
ed the heart of every patriot from Pilgrim New England to 
the sunny Southland. 

There had indeed been granted to the patriots a respite, 
all too brief, from the tense agony of war. It was, however, 
but the calm before the storm, a dead silence stirred only by 
the fateful pealing of the liberty bell. Scarce had ceased 
the cadence of its sonorous clanging, when the impending 
hurricane broke with all its fury. 




FIGHTING RETREAT" 



7T\ HE events of 'first magnitude', which had been transpir- 
^^ ing in New England since the war began, seem to have 
completely overshadowed the happenings in and around 
New York during 1775. Most of us are familiar enough with 
the general course of events, but not one in a hundred has 
'read up' on the series of thrilling episodes which marked 
Manhattan's year of preparation. The attention of Congress 
had, likewise, been focussed elsewhere, and it was up to 
General Lee* to make the most of the scanty means at his 
disposal. 

For months prior to the coming of the British 'grand 
fleet', the frigate "Asia" had lain in impudent security off 
Staten Island. Then came another — the "Phoenix", — of 
forty-four guns. During the winter the ice in the bay had 



*General Charles Lee was not American born, nor was he in any way connected 
■with Richard Henry Lee or 'Light Horse Harry\ Originally an officer of the British 
Army, he had become something of a soldier of fortune, having served with honor in 
several Eurojiean campaigns, and \indrr various sovereigns. Settling in Virginia a 
few years prior to the Revolution, he immediately embraced the cause of the patriots 
and was awarded recognition on the strength of his military experience. By the 
British he was regarded as a 'turncoat', by the Americans as a military genius. 
Later in the course of the war he lost iirestige and was 'shelved'. 



204 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 




THE LOWER PORTION OP NEW YORK CITY AND THE BAY 
The dim outlines of Staten Island are seen upon the horizon. The Brooklyn shore- 
line appears upon the left, with Governor's Island, (now 
the Eastern Headquarters of the U. S. Army) in the middle distance. 

made the anchorage of the "Asia" insecure and she moved 
in so close to the city that she actually became grounded at 
the foot of Whitehall Street, exposed to the guns of 'the 
Battery'. Yet, as neither party availed themselves of this 
beautiful opportunity for a scrimmage, the incident passed 
off quietly when high tide releavSed the unwelcome guest. 

Surely the proximity of these hostile craft was an ever- 
present annoyance to the patriots of New York, and un- 
doubtedly tended to check any great show of military activ- 
ity on the part of the citizens. On the other hand, the 
ships' officers took no aggressive action for the sake of the 
royalists who still remained in the city, being warned by 
General Lee that any demonstration on then* part would 
bring speedy retribution upon the interned subjects of the 
king. 

Tryon, the royal governor of New York, who had made 
the utmost efforts, though in vain, to induce the people of 
Manhattan to cling to the cause he represented, had him- 
self been obliged to quit the city and was living aboard one 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 205 

of the floating fortresses, eagerly awaiting the coming of the 
flotilla which was to uphold his authority. 

It has been said, with truth, that "the first American 
Navy came into being in New York waters." When the 
"Phoenix", tucking herself snugly away in one of the coves 
of Staten Island, began to play the part of blockader — 
pouncing out upon small and unsuspecting traders, whom 
she scuttled or robbed of their cargoes — it became necessary 
for the New Yorkers to do something in the way of reprisal. 
In this emergency, with their commerce well-nigh ruined, 
the patriots of Manhattan began to assemble a make-shift 
fleet. An unsightly collection it was, — schooners, sloops 
and whaleboats — but, manned by fearless volunteers, re- 
inforced by longshoremen and fishermen, and commanded 
by Lieut. Benjamin Tupper (an 'old salt' who knew his 
business) it soon proved itself invaluable. Out through 
Long Island Sound these little vessels ran back and forth, 
retaliating time and again upon British supply ships arriv- 
ing from Europe. So it resolved itself into a game of give 
and take, with the odds not altogether in favor of the enemy. 
Moreover, it was this same little fleet which was to save a 
large portion of the American Army, performing its last and 
greatest service as the factor which made possible their 
escape from Long Island a few weeks later. 

The early summer of 'Independence Year' found Wash- 
ington and his principal officers quartered in the lower por- 
tion of the city. Mrs. Washington, together with many 
others of the wives of the American leaders, shared their 
temporary lodgings; that of the Commander-in-Chief be- 
ing located at Kennedy House , to this day known as "num- 
ber one Broadway." The large office building which now 
occupies this historic corner would certainly never arouse 
the interest of the passer-by were it not for the bronze tablet 
v/hich, all too briefly, tells us that not only Washington, but 
Clinton and Carleton ( during the subsequent period of Brit- 
ish occupancy) here maintained official headquarters. 



206 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 




BOWLING GREEN, NEW YORK CITY, 

with the new Custom House in the background. Left-hand insert, section of the 

Bowling Green railing. Right hand insert, Number One Broadway from the Green. 

Washington, upon his arrival in New York about the 
middle of April, found that General Lee had displayed good 
judgment in his preliminary attempts at putting the city in 
a state of defense. The few brass cannon which had been 
brought down from Boston were carefully distributed among 
the redoubts at the Battery, Red Hook and the strategic 
points about Brooklyn and the Jersey shore, while a provi- 
dential shipment of powder, secretly arrived from France, 
was discreetly apportioned among the widely separated 
fortifications. 

It was but natural that the southern extremity of 
Manhattan, where was located the colonial 'Fort George', 
should be given first attenion. The familiar Battery Park 
of our own day covers an area somewhat larger than that of 
Revolutionary times, for the site of the present Aquarium 
was then detached from the mainland. There has been 
much 'filling in' hereabouts, and it would be diflacult to name 
with precision the exact site of any of the defensive works 
of 1776. Washington attempted to strengthen the defenses 
already undertaken by Lee in other quarters, in addition to 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 207 

which he began the construction of a second line across the 
Heights of Harlem, eleven miles from the Battery. Upon 
the highest ridge of the 'back-bone' of rock which underlies 
Manhattan Island, Fort Washington was laid out; while 
upon the companion bluff on the Jersey side of the Hudson, 
Fort Constitution (soon re-christened Fort Lee) was begun 
in high hopes of impregnability. With so extensive a cordon 
of out-works and such a far-reaching system of protective 
fortifications, Washington could do little more than bide his 
time and await the unforeseen developments of the future. 
The somewhat abortive attempt at the obstruction of the 
Hudson and the East River channels comprises a story in 
itself, being a subject upon which we shall permit ourselves 
more fully to indulge after we have disposed of the mo- 
mentous events which are now rapidly pressing to the fore- 
front of our tale. 

It has been estimated that Washington's entire com- 
mand did not, at this time, number more than twenty 
thousand, inclusive of the New England regiments. The 
so-called Continental Army was, at best, an inadequately 
outfitted and undisciplined body 
of recruits, and it is a matter of 
no wonderment that Washing- 
ton looked forward with some- 
thing like misgiving to the well 
nigh impossible task of holding 
the miles and miles of shore line 
skirting New York and Brook- 
lyn, when the enemy should put ^ . . ^ ,,^ ■ ^ ,. t,w w .v. r u 

•^ ' J L- British Officers Belt Plate, With G. R. 

in an appearance and prepare to in Bronze, recently found at Fort nm, 
contest the matter of ownership ^^"*'^" '^^^"''- 

1 P n (Courtesj' New York 'Times') 

by force oi arms. 

The fact that Staten Island was thoroughly British in 
sympathy must have been recognized by Washington, for he 
made no attempt to safeguard it. Indeed he visited this lo- 
cality but once, the following brief item from his 




208 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



celebrated 'Expense Book' explaining when and why : 

"Thursday. April 25, 1776 — To the Expenses of myself & party recong. the 
sevi. Landing' places, &u. on Staten Island ±16.10'. 

Staten Island seems, throughout the Revolution, to 
have been a refuge for the hundreds of loyalists who had 
drawn themselves away from their more patriotic neighbors 
in New York Gity and upon the Jersey mainland. In fact 
this flocking to- 
gether of red- 
feathered birds 
led to the estab- 
lishing of an iso- 
lated communi- 
ty in hearty ac- 
cord with the 
cause of Eng- 
land ; w i t h i n 
sight of New 
York, it is true, 
but entirely 
alien in spirit. 
Hence it was 
that the British 
fleet, bearing Sir 
William Howe 
and the power- 
ful force with 
which he pro- 
posed to operate 
against the Americans, arriving from Halifax on the 28th 
of June, 1776, found a hearty welcome awaiting them, and a 
safe haven in ''the Narrows." Joy was unconfined among 
the Tories. Governor Tryon immediately waited upon Lord 
Howe and laid before that worthy the full details of the 
situation, without doubt pouring out a lengthy tale of woe. 
As if to reassure the royalists that the day of reckoning was 
at hand, forty more British vessels anchored in the lower 




THE OLD CITY HALL, NEW YORK CITY 

Near this spot, in July, 1776, the Declaration of Independence 

was read to the American Army. Above the older structure, 

erected 1803-'12, appears the tower of the new Municipal Building 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 209 

bay the very next morning and began at once to disembark 
their contingents of soldiery. Day after day brought addi- 
tional convoys of troops, among whom were fresh regiments 
of Hessian mercenaries direct from Europe, with such able 
officers as De Heister, Knyphausen and Dunop, and ere long 
Staten Island became a great armed camp, white with tents 
and bustling with activity. All this meant safety for the 
British sympathizers, but within New York reigned deepest 
anxiety and apprehension. 

Lord Howe, establishing himself at Tottenville — toward 
the southern end of the island — proceeded at once to fortify 
his great encampment. About the middle of July he was 
joined by his brother, Admiral Richard Howe, and by the 
first of September, having been further reinforced by Clin- 
ton and Cornwallis, he found himself at the head of no less 
than twenty-five thousand men, thoroughly seasoned and 
faultlessly equipped. 

Staten Island, thus completely alienated from the cause 
and control of the patriots, became the great base of oper- 
ations for the enemy, and — by reason of its dangerous prox- 
imity — a continual 'thorn in the flesh.' for the Americans. 
Separated from Elizabethtown by a barrier no more formid- 
able than the narrow Arthur Kill, communications in that 
quarter were constantly open, and the tale-bearing Tories 
of the interior of Jersey had ready access to the attentive 
ear of the British commander, who had much to gain by 
means of their nefarious schemes. Besides the major oper- 
ation which was about to be undertaken against Washing- 
ton, the several raids which devastated Jersey in a later 
period of the war had their origin here, and for six long 
years stolen provisions and chattels of all kinds found their 
way to the enemy's General Headquarters at New York 
through this convenient 'family entrance'. 

There are some portions of Staten Island which we 
may visit to-day in the assurance that they have a positive 
historic significance; other note-worthy sites have given 



210 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 




Old 'Bellop House', Totteuville, Staten Island, built 1668. Occupied by Lord Howe 
in 1776. Here, after the battle of Long Island, he met Benjamin Franklin and 
John Adams in a last and futile attempt at conciliation. Howe offered 'for- 
giveness', but America had already pledged herself to the cause of complete 

liberation 

place to busy towns and pretty suburban communities 
thoroughly modern in appearance. As a matter of fact the 
entire island is liberally sprinkled with interesting places. 
The ruined stone houses amid the willows and low-lying 
marshes below New Dorp are romantic in the extreme, 
while upon the seaward-facing hills there are dozens of tall, 
white-pillared mansions, — many of them likewise forsaken, 
— telling of a period of opulence long since passed. Then 
there is Sailors' Snug Harbor, — with its splendid institu- 
tion, heavily endowed, where old jack-tars have permanen- 
ly cast anchor, — and the principal center of population, St. 
George, which is now the seat of greater New York's Bor- 
ough of Richmond. Altogether, Staten Island offers a com- 
bination entirely different from anything I have elsewhere 
encountered, but in so far as our story goes we must regard 
it as British territory pure and simple. 

Singular as it may appear, it is nevertheless true that 
affairs in New York City pursued their wonted course for 
nearly two months following the British occupancy of 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



211 



Stateii Island. Everyone was more or less peturbed in 
spirit, yet merchants bought and sold, and people went 
about as usual, attending to the routine duties of life. The 
news of the Declaration of Independence had traveled fast ; 
and, coming to New York at a time when the enemy were 
within sight and hearing, its effect was electric. 

On the 9th of July 1776, an 
uproarious mob of soldiers and 
civilians flocked to Bowling 
Green, pulled down the gilded 
equestrian statue of King George 
III, and after it had been knocked 
about and mutilated to the satis- 
faction of all concerned, the 
greater portion of it was sent to 
Connecticut to be run into bullets 
for the army. 

One of the very few relics of 
these strenuous times remaining 
in lower Manhattan to-day is the 
circular iron railing surrounding 

.. -r» T r\ T-i 1 TTT-/1 1''^'5 Statue of George III, which 

tmy Bowlmg Green rark. With- formerly stood in BowUng Green, 

New York Citv 
in this enclosure stood the regal From Drawing by CharlekM. Lefferts. 

statue. A close inspection of the crude hand-wrought iron 
pickets will convince anyone that it is the original fencing 
brought out from England in 1770, at the time the kingly 
effigy was erected. 

Concerning the desecrated statue of his majesty, fat 
and fatuous, I may inform the reader, that several frag- 
ments, including the tail of the horse, are now in the pos- 
session of the New York Historical Society, having been 
brought up, when ploughing, on a farm near Wilton, Conn. ; 
while one of the slabs of the pedestal turned up in Jersey 
City in 1818. After being used as a stepping stone for some 
sixty years more, it, too, was acquired by the Historical 
Society. Truly, royalty, both in effigy and in the flesh, hath 
had some tough experiences! 




212 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



New York experienced its first taste of actual warfare 
on the 12th of July, when five of the British ships sailed up 
the North River despite the opposition of the batteries on 
either shore. As they passed the wharves a destructive bom- 
bardment was opened upon the town, greatly upsetting the 
equilibrium of the inhabitants and filling the streets with 
frightened women and children. The smoke of battle hung 
over the city like 
a pall and the air 
was heavy with 
the smell of pow- 
der. The damage 
to the ships was 
inconsequential; 
and, continuing 
up stream, they 
experienced but 
little difficulty in 
forcing their way 
past Eort Wash- 
ington. Not un- 
til they h a d 
reached the ouiet "^ page prom the history of old new york. 

expanse of Tap- 
pan Zee, opposite 
Haverstraw, did 
they cast anchor. 

Here they remained for considerably over a month, a con- 
stant menace to the city far below. In a subsequent chap- 
ter we shall have something further to say upon this phase 
of the situation, coming more properly under the heading 
"The Watch on the Hudson". 

After this episode, the British chiefs sought a parley. 
Several officers of high rank attempted to get into commun- 
ication with Washington, and — after preliminary squabbles 
over 'diplomatic etiquette' (foremost among which was the 




This curiously constructt-d building at No. 7 State Street, 
facing Battery Park, was a witness to the events of 'Inde- 
pendence Ytar'. During Washington's presidency it was one 
of the finest mansions in town. It is at present occupied by 
the Mission of our Lady of the Rosary, and outwardly has 
experienced little change since the time it was built. This 
is one of the very few Revolutionary houses remaining in this 
locality. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



213 



reluctance on the part of the Howes to address Washington 
by his military title of 'General') — Colonel Patterson, the 
British adjutant, finally secured an interview. Nothing 
was accomplished thereby, for the 'British Mission' could, 
at best, offer nothing more than a sweeping pardon to the 
'erring' colonists, while the patriots were now fighting for 
liberation. This exchange of views took place on the 20th 
of July at the headquarters of Washington, Broadway and 
Bowling Green. 

Realizing that further attempts at pacification would 
be useless. General Howe prepared to fight it out. Wash- 
ington, too, made final dispositions for the impending con- 
flict; he sent away his documents and state papers, and 

called in every 
man who could 
possibly be spared 
from the outly- 
ing defenses, — 
from New Eng- 
land and from the 
Highlands of the 
Hudson. In a 
series of general 
orders to the 
army, he made it 
plain that a new 
campaign was 
about to begin, 
and urged upon 
all a spirit of 
fealty and united 
effort. Lady 
Washington left 
for Mount Ver- 
non, and the wives of the other general officers were likewise 
spirited away to places of safety. 




THE BROOKLYN SHORE LINE, 

near the spot where the British made their landing on Long 

Island, August 21-22, 1776. 



214 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

By the first of August it became evident to the de- 
fenders of New York that the crisis was rapidly approach- 
ing, although the 'where and when' of the British attack 
were mysteries sufficiently puzzling to keep Washington 
constantly on the qui vive. A week later the city was in a 
state of feverish agitation; danger signals had been 
arranged, and steps taken to permit the instant shifting of 
reinforcements to any point which might be threatened. 
On the 17th the Commander received intelligence that some 
elaborate operation was afoot in the enemy's camp, on the 
18th the British ships which had gone up the Hudson re- 
turned to their anchorage in the Bay, again firing on the 
city as they passed, and on the 21st came a courier from 
Livingston, governor of New Jersey, bringing positive infor- 
mation that a force of twenty thousand had embarked pre- 
paratory to a simultaneous attack on Long Island, central 
Jersey, and the Hudson River defences. Next morning the 
roar of cannon in the east and dense columns of smoke 
hovering over Long Island gave summary notice that the 
British had begun their second campaign for the mastery 
of America, the final result of which no human foresight 
might reveal. 

The 'tramp historian' who visits Long Island nowa- 
days in search of precise localities must not expect too much. 
Most of the events associated with the Battle of Long Island 
occurred within the limits of the present enormous Bor- 
ough of Brooklyn. The British landed near Gravesend, 
made circuitous marches through LUrecht and Jamaica, and 
met the patriots in the decisive combat of the 27th of 
August by attacking what were then the works outlying 
the ancient village, but which have now — as a part of Pros- 
pect Park — become the center of the rapidly expanding city. 

If Brooklyn be devoid of Revolutionary landmarks, we 
must make every reasonable allowance in the knowledge 
that the old city was continuously in British possession from 
the late-summer of 1776 until the termination of the strug- 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 215 

gie; consequently we find no traces of prolonged and event- 
ful patriot occupancy. 

The growth of Long Island, in point of population, has 
been phenominal. Its proximity to New York City accounts 
for the 'real estate booms' which have developed the mul- 
titude of suburban communities within easy reach of the 
metropolis, beyond which an even greater number of more 
select 'aristocratic colonies' have arisen, all tending to swal- 
low-up or obliterate the isolated farm-houses of the Revolu- 
tionary period.* The present net-work of railroads and 
boulevards has, moreover, so completely altered the aspect 
of the countryside that the traveler must journey for over 
an hour from the heart of old Brooklyn before he smacks 
the salt sea air, homely frugality and Revolutionary history 
which, of right, belongs to Long Island. Then, alas, he 
wdll have gone beyond the territory made historically im- 
portant by events of first magnitude. 

The site of the Long Island battle, which stands out as 
Brooklyn's greatest event so far as history is concerned, is 
compassed — for the most part — within the beautiful acres 
of Prospect Park. Just outside its boundaries there stands 
to-day a landmark, which — had it existed in 1776 — would 
most certainly have changed the result of that disastrous 
engagement. It is a magnificent water-tower, sufficently 
artistic in construction to serve — were it suitably inscribed 
—as an appropriate battle monument. Just below it lies 
a small municipal reservoir, adjoining the spacious grounds 
of the Brooklyn Institute, while across Flatbush Avenue 
are the inviting solitudes of the Park. From the summit 
of this tower, which would have made a wonderful observa- 
tory for the patriots of long ago, it is possible to gain a very 
comprehensive idea of the plan of the engagement. Look- 
ing toward New York, the older section of Brooklyn lies 



* In Revolutionary times, many of my ancestors, members of the Horton and 
Gardner families, (some of them fisher-folk) lived on Long Island. They, like many 
others, handed down to their children's children stories of the British invasion. 
The red-coats swarmed into their little cottages; rummaging around, depleting 
larders and taking bread from ovens, but were — on the whole — not quite so blood- 
thirsty in their dealings with the civil population as one might expect. 



216 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



spread before us like a map. To the northward is Wallabout 
Bay and the present Navy Yard, to the south Gowanus 
Bay — a small arm of New York harbor. Between these 
'indentations', the inner lines cf defense (enclosing the old 
town of some 1500 inhab- 
itants) had been arranged 
by General Greene, com- 
mander of the American 
forces on Long Island. 

Despite the numerical 
superiority of the enemy, 
Washington entertained 
some hopes of defending 
his outer line of entrenched 
positions, (stretching along 
the chain of little hil- 
locks from what is now 
Greenwood Cemetery to 
Cyprus Hills), in which 
opinion he was strength- 
ened, perhaps, by the leis- 
urely movements of the 
British. Five days were 
consumed by the latter in 
skirmishing and driving in 
outposts. Both armies were augmented with as much 
secrecy as possible, the British spreading their lines toward 
Utrecht and Flatlands, the Americans busily strengthening 
"Prospect Hill", considered to be the key to the situation. 

The visitor to Prospect Park, Brooklyn, will find no dif- 
ficulty in locating this ridge, which runs parallel to modern 
Flatbush Avenue. It is intersected by several gulleys, chief 
among which is the defile known to-day as "Battle Pass", 
in ancient times traversed by the old post-road running into 
the city. Across this much-travelled highway was thrown 
a barricade of hastily-felled trees, among them being the 




MUNICIPAL WATER TOWER, 

BROOKLYN, N. Y. 

Overlooking Prospect Park, scene of 

the Battle of Long Island. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 217 

celebrated "Dongaii's Oak," a century-old monarch of the 
forest, named for one of the colonial governors of New York 
province. 

General Greene, thoroughly familiar with the scheme 
of defence and the routes by which' the enemy might be 
expected to attack, fell a victim to a severe illness conse- 
quent to his untiring effort, and — when he could least be 
5:pared — was forced to entrust the responsibilities of the 
command to Putnam. This circumstance, coupled with 
Earl Percy's famous detour via the Jamaica road and his 
successful attack upon the slimly-protected north-flank of 
the Americans, was responsible for the disastrous result of 
the Battle of Long Island. 

At daybreak on the 27th of August, the British attack 
commenced. As was anticipated, there was a spirited 
frontal assualt upon "Prospect Hill." Here General Sulli- 
van found himself assailed by De Heister's Hessians. Gen- 
eral Stirling , defending the 'Bay end' of the Brooklyn lines, 
was likewise busily occupied, being confronted by large 
bodies of the enemy's troops. Washington, hastening over 
the East River from his headquarters in New York, had 
scarcely become convinced that the enemy had at last 
determined to force the passes, when — from his point of 
observation — he beheld with consternation the approach of 
heavy red-coated columns, bearing 'down from the north 
upon the unguarded American left wing. Telescope in hand, 
he witnessed from afar the agonizing spectacle of a disaster 
which all his foresight had been unable to avoid, and which 
no power under Heaven could, at that moment, avert. 
Notwithstanding their long night march, the troops of Earl 
Percy threw themselves upon the rear of Sullivan's regiments 
already seriously involved. Taken thus at a disadvantage 
and beset by superior numbers before and behind, the Amer- 
ican defenders of "Prospect Hill" fell into fearful confusion. 
In the hand-to-hand struggle which followed at the hope- 
lessly congested passes, the carnage was frightful. Vainly 



218 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



endeavoring to extricate themselves from the trap, nothing 
was left for the patriots but capitulation. 

Stirling, at the southern extremity of the line with his 
Alaryland and Delaware militia, found himself, ere long, in 
a like predicament. Jailing back in the face of overwhelm- 
ing odds, he was attempting to reach the inner lines by 
fording Gowanus Creek, when he encountered Lord Corn- 
wallis* with another strong division, completely blocking 
his retreat. Af- 
ter a desperate 
fight, he, too, was 
obliged to make 
virtue of necessi- 
ty, accepting the 
alternative of sur- 
render rather 
than annihilation. 

Thus it came 
about that, at the 
very outset of the 
British campaign, 
they sucecssfully 
cut-off some two 
thousand m e n 
from the Amer- 
ican army. ?vlany 
of the unfortun- 
ate ones who were 

taken captive were fated to languish for months in miser- 
able prison pens; others of the general officers, notably 
Stirling and Sullivan, were shortly exchanged, and — before 
Washington's retreat across New Jersey — we find them once 
again in the American camp. 

Through 'Battle Pass' there runs to-day a finely im- 
proved road, accommodating a constant stream of vehicular 




* This .vas the first appearance L>f Cornwallis upon a battle-field of the American 
War, in which prolonged contest he was destined to take a more prominent part 
than any other British officer. His final defeat, it will be called to mind, occurred 
under circumstances not altogether dissimilar. 



THE FIGHTI^sG RETREAT 219 

traffic. How many, I wonder, among those who ride through 
this wooded gap in their luxurious limousines, have taken 
the trouble to familiarize themselves with its thrilling his- 
toric story? Surely there are plenty of informative and 
explanatory 'markers,' and the interested rambler wdll find 
himself amply compensated for the time spent in a brief 
^stop-over'. To loiter for a half-hour among the deep gul- 
leys on either hand, now fragrant with modest flowers and 
bedecked with ferns, here to read the story of the brave 
defence of these picturesque knolls, — green carpeted and 
shady, is to study history with profoundest pleasure. 

Most certainly the Continental army had been badly 
worsted in the initial phase of their defence of Brooklyn. 
Indeed, the battle had been lost before mid-day. Such 
remnants of the broken American divisions as were able to 
escape from the melee made all haste to place themselves 
within the temporary security of the stronger but less exten- 
sive inner redoubts. The next move of the victorious 
British was awaited with a feeling of gravest concern and 
apprehension. Evidently this was not to be long delayed, 
for — having followed up the pursuit of the fugitives with 
great ardour — Lord Howe's troops came upon the scene 
in record time. So elated were they with the achievements 
of the morning that it was exceedingly difficult for their 
officers to restrain them from an immediate renewal of the 
attack. Lord Howe himself appears to have been well- 
satisfied with what had already been accomplished, for he 
decided against further hostilities that day, settling into 
position a few hundred yards distant from the American 
lines, and allowing his men to work off their surplus energy 
by throwing up a series of light entrenchments. This was, 
perhaps, in strict accord w^ith prudent military tactics; 
nevertheless Howe lost a golden opportunity thereby. His 
procrastination proved to be a 'life-saver' for our sadly- 
dejected little army and the great cause for which they 
fought. 



220 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

The celebrated retreat from Long Island, retrograde 
maneuver though it was, stands out as one of the big events 
in Washington's military career. After such a decisive 
defeat as that which his inexperienced troops had just suf- 
fered, even the most sanguine hopes of the Commander-m- 
Chief gave no promise of a reversal of fortune by a further 
stand on Long Island. While the defenders of Brooklyn, dis- 
heartened but not yet despairing, waited the resumption of 
the British attack, Washington, with ceaseless energy, hur- 
ried back and forth across the East River, trying to devise 
some means of safely withdrawing his forces from the posi- 
tion which was hourly becoming more dangerous. The 
ships of the enemy might, at any time, force their way up 
the river, in which event the plight of the troops on Long- 
Island would be hopeless. 

A night of anxiety followed the battle, then came 
another day of uncertainty. To retreat in the face of the 
British was to court disaster, to give battle presented a risk 
still greater. The 29th of August was a day of drizzling 
rain; nightfall came, black and stormy, but thereby bring- 
ing with it the way of escape. That very morning General 
Mifflin had come down from Fort Washington with CoL 
Glover's regiment of Massachusetts men, most of them well 
accustomed to the handling of boats. Then it was that 
New York's little make-shift navy proved its utility. These 
nondescript boats and the fishermen of Marblehead were 
the salvation of the patriots. 

"Never," as Washington Irving says, "did retreat re- 
quire greater secrecy and circumspection." Unfavorable 
winds, a contrary tide, and some blundering in the commun- 
ication of orders threatened, more than once, to disrupt the 
entire scheme. Yet, when morning dawned, nine thousand 
men — with horses and cannon — had been safely transported 
across the wide river to New York City, with the British 
in total ignorance of the exodus until the American lines 
were entirely deserted. It is said that W^ashington lingered 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 221 

until the last man had taken to the boats, and he is known 
to have personally supervised the entire embarkation; 
assuredly it was his courage and sagacity on this occasion 
which saved the half of his army from the extremity of peril. 




"BROOKLYN BRIDGE" 

Connecting New York City and Brooklyn. Across this portion of the 

East River the American troops were ferried in their 

retreat from Long Island, (seen on the farther shore). 

New York City could not, from its proximity to the 
British base of operations, be expected to offer Washington 
and his army any protracted tenancy. Equally disconcert- 
ing to the Commander was the prompt advance of the 
British fleet up the Bay and the epidemic of 'homesickness' 
which spread with alarming rapidity among his short-enlist- 
ment troops. Lower Manhattan soon became untenable by 
reason of the presence of the ships whose guns commanded 
the city. Having no desire to call forth a bombardment by 
reason of his presence, Washington moved northward 
toward the center of the island, far beyond the confines of 
the town. 

During this interval, with the American army daily 
lessening in numbers because of the departure of troops 



222 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

whose terms had expired and whom no amount of per- 
suasion could induce to continue in service, the British com- 
manders once again made concihatory overtures to the 
Continental Congress. In consequence, Lord Howe received 
in conference (at the Bellop House, Staten Island) a com- 
mittee consisting of Adams, Franklin and Rutledge, who — 
much to his disappointment — expressed themselves as being 
fully determined to persevere in the struggle for vindica- 
tion, despite the reverses of the summer. This decision was 
made, moreover, in the knowledge that Washington, accord- 
ing to his own communications to Congress, inust inevitably 
give ground again should the British press hostilities. The 
General, with this contingency in mind, was even then with- 
drawing stores and ammunition mto upper Manhattan and 
New Jersey. 

Meanwhile, the British had scattered themselves, like 
a plague of locusts, over the length and breadth of Long- 
Island, had established outposts as far up as Flushing on 
the Sound, and had made themselves masters of all the 
farther bank of the East River. Paulus Hook (Jersey 
City) had also fallen into their hands without much effort, 
and by the middle of September, Washington, although 
still within five or six miles of the Battery, 'slept with one 
eye open'. 

General Putnam, with about four thousand men, still 
lingered in the Murray Hill* section of the island, when, on 
September 15th, the British launched a simultaneous 
attack from both the Hudson and the East Rivers. The 
attempt upon the west shore, where the landing was made 
near Greenwich, seems not to have been of such propor- 
tions as that executed from Long Island. General Howe 
himself accompanied the East River contingent, compris- 
ing a great number of barges loaded to the water's edge 
with soldiers, who effected a landing near the present 34th 
Street Ferry. The militia, gathered to dispute the right of 

* Murray Hill derives its name from Robert Murray, a wealthy Quaker who 
— in Revolutionary times — resided on what is now Park Avenue, between 36th and 
37th Streets. This now populous section of New York City was then farmland. 
Washington slept at the Murray homestead on the night of September 14th, 1776. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



223 



way, made but a feeble resistance despite the presence of 
Washington, who had ridden over from the Murray home- 
stead at the first intimation of danger. It was on this 
occasion that the Generab exasperated beyond measure, 
bitterly exclaimed : "Are these the men with whom I am to 

defend America?" 

They were, in- 
deed. B u t Wash- 
ington was destined 
to learn, before the 
war was over, that 
these same fellows 
were capable of do- 
ing and daring al- 
most anything. After 
three or four years 
of campaigning, amid 
times of far greater 
stress than this, they 
proved themselves 
fully up to and be- 
yond any precon- 
ceived standards of 
their illustrious 
leader, and none 
more t h an he 
acknowledged it. 

In the present 
instance , however, 
a speedy 'get away' 
was more in order 
than a day-dream of 
future efficiency. 
Washington sent off a courier to Putnam, ordering him to 
march with all speed for the Heights of Harlem, and dis- 
patched instructions to his officers in that quarter to post 




"THE MARTYRS MONUMEKT' 
— Trinity Church Yard. New York City— 

Th( lot of the prisoners taken by the British dur- 
ing thii War of Independence was most deplorable. 
This Gothic spire perpetuates the memory of the 
men who succumbed beneath the intense rigours of 
their captivity. The old Rhinelander Sugar Hous-e 
(illustrated in our Chapter Heading) where many 
of these martyrs died, was located at William. Rose 
and Duane Streets, where now stands a towering 
brick structure devoted largely to tlie printing trades. 
One of the ancient iron-barred windows of the 
Sugar House is preserved at Van Cortlandt Park, 
another has been built into the wall of the present 
building occupying the historic site. 



224 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

themselves at all vantage points before the enemy should 
be able to forestall them. He himself, being unable to pre- 
vent a junction of the two British landing parties, gathered 
his staff about him and proceeded to Mott's Tavern, which 
stood near the present intersection of 143rd Street and 
Eighth Avenue. 

General Howe, who considered that he was making 
splendid progress, stopped for refreshment, with some of 
his officers, at the Murray house, so recently vacated by 
Washington. In the absence of her husband, the worthy 
dame Murray proceeded at their bidding to regale her 
visitors with 'the best in the house'. In the good old days 
this meant much. Cake and wine soon created a mellow 
atmosphere of comfort and conviviality which the honest 
Howe was loath of leave. So long did he linger over the 
'cup that cheereth,' that Putnam's refugees secured a start 
of several miles before he dispatchetl his own dragoons in 
pursuit. It was then too late to intercept them. 

Meanwhile, upon this eventful day (and it happened 
to be the Sabbath, at that) some momentous events were 
happening in 'downtown' New York. The officers of the 
British fleet had landed at the Battery and taken formal 
possession of the city, in the name of the King. And so 
for seven long years it remained, until the outlawed patriots 
came again into their own, having — by right of conquest — ■ 
won "America for the Americans." 

Early on the morning of September 16th, Washington 
arrived at Harlem Heights and at once established his 
headquarters in the Roger Morris house, overlooking the 
Harlem River. But the emergencies of the day demanded 
instant attention. Putnam had been quite closely pressed 
by the enemy, in fact the British, who had come up during 
the night, were already preparing to attack the advanced 
American lines near the present 130th to 135th Streets. 

Fortunate it was that this terrain had been to some 
degree fortified during the early months of summer. The 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 225 

wisdom of these preparations was now apparent. With a 
r(5nsiderable force at his disposal, the protecting works of 
Port Washington behind him, and being encamped upon a 
commanding eminence, Washington might, with good rea- 
son, hope to maintain his ground for a time at least, and to 
administer a well-deserved check to the over-ambitious 
mvaders. And this, in advance, is the story of the Battle 
of Harlem Heights. It was short and decisive. 

To those of my readers who are familiar with New 
York City, the following description of the constantly shift- 
ing movements of the day will be quite clear: 

Manhattan Street now traverses a diagonal course from 125th Street and 
Morningi-ide Avenue East to the 130th Street Ferry on . the Hudson River. This 
natural depression between the heights was known in Revolutionary times as 'The 
HoUow Way'. On the northerly elevation, near the grounds of the present Convent 
of the Sacred Heart, were jJosted the advanced American troops under General 
Greene, when the British moved down into the valley from Riverside Heights (now 
crowned by the tomb of General U. S. Grant). This initial movement took place 
near the ponderous Riverside Drive viaduct. To out-flank them, a party of Amer- 
icans under Major Knovvlton cut across from the extremity of St. Nicholas Park, 
heading for the 'farm land' now occupied by the extensive buildings and campus of 
Columbia University. En route ensued the encounter in which Knowlton lost his 
life. The British, to avoid being cut off, desisted from their original purpose, and 
gave battle to the Americans in the 'buck-wheat field', to-day the site of Barnard 
College, (Broadway Boulevard and 120th Street). For some three hours longer 
the action continued, both sides drawing all available reinforcements. It was, how- 
ever, more in the nature of a skirmishing fight, for the British were pushed back, 
slowly but surely, to their own advanced posts at 105th Street. The action ceased 
at three o'clock in the afternoon. 

General Washington, at the outset of the battle, rode 
down to the farthest redoubts to direct operations, and fol- 
lowed the movements of his troops in the desultory combat 
across the upland fields. The success of the patriots in this 
small affair had almost the effect of a notable victory, ani- 
mating the spirits of the soldiers and doing much to efface 
the impression of British invincibility engendered by the 
catastrophe on Long Island. The enemy had lost about a 
hundred men; the Americans a dozen killed and less than 
fifty wounded. The death of Knowlton, like that of War- 
ren at Bunker Hill, was one of the grim tolls of war, another 
heavy installment paid toward the price of final victory. 

The British soon drew back their lines to 100th Street, 
and there proceeded to 'dig in', forming a permanent barrier 
across the island ; thus acknowledging that they had rather 
wait a bit before again tackling the hornet's nest. Indeed 



226 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 






:;:t!-"^\'.'?H2iiJ.5u^yi 



■ " ? 


A portion 




the buildii 




f Coluni: 




University 




showing t 




Library a 


^fv^'il 


Campus. 




the wall of 




Engineerin 




Building is i 




bedded a t 




let commem 




ating the b 




tie. 




The unfin- 
ished Cathedral 
of St. John 
the Divine, 

Morningside 
Heights. 



LANDMARKS ON THE HEIGHTS OP HARLEM, NEW YORK CITY. 

The battle of September 16th, 1776, was fought, for the most part, on the plateau 

bounded by Riverside Drive and Morningside Park. Both of the above 

beautiful arcnitectural gems have been erected on historic ground. 

General Howe needed no one to tell him that his efforts to 
trap the Americans on Manhattan had thus far been a 
failure. 

The lover of history who has failed to pay a visit to 
Washington's headquarters on Harlem Heights — the cap- 
tivating Morris-Jumel mansion — has missed a rare treat. 
On the entire island of Manhattan, this house alone remains 
to claim the honor of having sheltered the patriot chieftain. 
To-day it is hemmed in by populous apartment houses, yet 
is not entirely overshadowed, for it occupies a little patch 
of verdant park all its own, and — from its commanding situ- 
ation upon the bluff which overlooks the Harlem River — 
still retains its outward air of distinction and preserves an 
interior atmosphere redolent with purest Americanism. 

Up under the roof of its stately portico there is a little 
railed balcony, from which it must have been possible to 
obtain a magnificent view of the countryside in the days 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 227 

when broad acres of farmland and pasture stretched away 
toward the then distant city of New York. We are told that 
on the night of the 20th of September, the inmates of head- 
quarters were roused from slumber to see the entire southern 
sky reddened with flame, and from this vantage point the 
Commander anxiously contemplated the fearful spectacle. 
What had happened in New York was revealed upon the 
following day by a British officier who came up from the 
city regarding the exchange of prisoners. The greater por- 
tion of lower Manhattan had indeed been devasted by a 
wide-sweeping conflagration, which the British erroneously 
claimed to have been the work of patriot incendiaries. 




THE MOHltlS-JUMKL MANSION, NEW YORK CITY. 
Washington's headquarters, West 160th Street and Harlem River 
In the foreground, beside the gravel path, are the foundations of a small build- 
ing believed to have been a 'guard house' of the Revolutionary period. Numerous 
relics, in the shape of buttons, shot, buckles, cutlery, etc., have been unearthed m 
various parts of the surrounding garden. 

During the month spent here by Washington, General 
Howe seems to have relapsed into a laggard routine, devot- 
ing his energies to Tory recruiting and the issuance of glow- 



228 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

ing proclamations, while Washington — busily scouting 
around the wooded heights, gorgeous in their Indian Sum- 
mer garb — continued to cling to his 'nest' on Morris 
Heights, so conveniently located either for advance or re- 
treat. 

The Morris Mansion is indeed an aristocratic old place. 
That it has a multitude of claims upon our interest is made 
evident from a brief outline of its eventful history: 

In 1776 it had already become famous, having been built in 1767 by Colonel 
Roger Morris of the British army, he who had fought by the side of Washington in 
the French War and had later married one of the objects of his admiration, Mary 
Philipse of Yonkers. Prior to the Revolution it had offered hospitality to nearly all 
the prominent British statesmen and soldiers in the American colonies, and was 
one of the most exclusive of the Knickerbocker manors. Colonel Morris decamped 
during the struggle for independence, and the mansion — after serving in turn the 
needs of Washington and the Hessian staff officers — changed owners repeatedly dur- 
ing the 'transition period.' In 1810 it was acquired by Stephen Jumel, a French 
merchant, and again became the rendezvous for the polite society of New York. Here 
the gorgeous widow, Madaiu Jumel, was married to Aaron Burr in 1833, and — 
until her death in 1865 — the great white palace with its stately portico anel luxurious 
furnishings, was the gathering place for a glittering ensemble of notables — 'foreign 
and domestic' 

Small wonder then that the well-informed pilgrim to 
the mansion is instantly conscious of a nameless, haunting 
thrill as he crosses the historic threshold. Patriotism and 
pathos hover at your heels or flit furtively before you as you 
tiptoe from room to room. Lafayette, Joseph Bonaparte 
and Prince Louis (afterward Napoleon III of France) have 
tarried here a little while and gone; Franklin, Fitz-Greene 
Halleck and General Sherman have — each in their day and 
age — strolled through the spacious hallway, partaken of 
earth's good things and passed on to their duties and 
rewards. But who more than Aaron Burr, that Machiavelli 
of American politics, offers a tempting character study? 
The Jumel mansion knew him in his old age, a broken-down 
and sensuous adventurer, when — by his alliance with the 
wealthy and vain old lady — he strove to repair his shat- 
tered fortunes. His checkered career presents all the multi- 
colored phases of life beloved by the novelist: talent, trick- 
ery, treason and tribulation. Yet at the time when Wash- 
ington was doing his utmost to defend New York, this same 
Aaron Burr, a youth patriotic and untainted, was manfullv 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



229 



trudging along with the artillery, on more than one occasion 
' — by his ready wit — getting them out of tight places and 
displaying unusual qualifications for leadership. 

The name of Aaron Burr is inseparably linked with that 
of Hamilton because of the tragic encounter which brought 
death to one and dishonor to the other. And it were a pity 
indeed did not the visitor to the Jumel mansion extend his 
journey a bit farther and steal a glimpse at the time-honored 
'Grange,' the heme of the great P'ederalist. The former 
abode of Alexander Hamilton has recently been moved bod- 
ily from its orginal site to a nearby location on Convent 
Avenue, a block or two from the College of the City of New 
York. Having suffered but little in transportation, we find 
it practically as it was in 1804, when its dignified yet 

sprightly master 
set out for Wee- 
hawken to meet an 
adversary who was 
determined upon 
his ruin. 

Is it not singular 
that Hamilton also 
was one of Wash- 
ington's army dur- 
ing the summer of 
1776? Whether he 
and Burr were ac- 
quainted at this 
time we do not 
know, but it is cer- 
tain that both the 
young officers came 
under the critical 
eye of Washington during the campaign on Harlem Heights. 
Hamilton rapidly rose in favor with the Connnander, but 
the keenly penetrating mind of Washington seems never to 




■HAMILTON GRAXGK' in its new location 

home of Alexander Hamilton, on Convent Avenue, 

York Cit.v, preserved as a memorial to the 

'great Federalist' 



New 



230 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

have placed implicit trust in Burr, for we find no evidence 
of intimacy between them either during the war or after- 
ward. Aaron Burr reached great heights and sank, perhaps, 
to greater depths, — which is characteristic of his type of 
unstable genius — -notwithstanding, he was a man of wonder- 
ful personalty and force. Standing before 'Hamilton 
Grange' and realizing its proximity to the home of Madam 
Jumel, one is prone to wonder whether Burr, out for an 
airing in madame's fabled coach of gold and yellow, was not 
loath to pass the portal of his fallen enemy, and whether 
he did not, more than once, bid the liveried coachman fol- 
low the river road! 

I shall make no apologies for my digressions; who could 
or would do otherwise? Yet for the sake of continuity, I 
must lead you back again to 'headquarters', for as such, 
purely and simply, Washington was forced by circumstances 
to regard the Morris House. In those weeks following the 
battle of Harlem Heights, he was kept busy trying by fair 
means and foul to 'keep tab' on the doings of the enemy, 
fearing more from a flank movement from Long Island 
through Westchester than from a direct attack from New 
York City. It was at this juncture that there occurred the 
well known tragedy of Nathan Hale. 

Among the names of Revolutionary patriots, none has 
been more justly honored than that of this ardent young 
Connecticut schoolmaster-captain, who willingly sacrificed 
himself for the cause of liberty and whose only regret in 
dying was this: that he had "but one life to lose" for his 
country. It was from the Morris house that Hale was dis- 
patched, at the suggestion of Colonel Magaw, upon the 
dangerous mission to the British camp. Through a door- 
way leading to the cellar, long since plastered over (so we 
are told) the volunteer spy took his way as he left the 
presence of Washington, departing with so much secrecy 
that not even the sentries at the entrance door were aware 
of his going. All went well with Captain Hale at the outset. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



■ 231 



He made a landing somewhere near Huntington, Long 
Island, secured the information he sought and succeeded in 
passing beyond the British lines. But, hailing by mistake 
a boat manned by men from an enemy's guard ship, he was 
captured, tried — after a fashion, 
— and hung without ceremony 
in New York City. The place 
of his martyrdom has been 
localized at 45th Street and 
First Avenue, but his monu- 
ment now adorns the historic 
City Hall Square downtown, 
where, I conjecture, half a mil- 
lion people pass it every day. 
His last words express the most 
noble sentiment ever voiced by 
an American. During the 
World War, a brick obelisk was 
hurriedly erected opposite the 
Hale statue, each brick repre- 
senting a $50.00 bond-subscrip- 
tion to the Fourth Liberty 
Loan. 

The death of Nathan Hale 
and the successful consumma- 
tion of our 'over-seas campaign' 
are epoch-making events sep- 
arated by the valiant deeds of a 
century and a half. Yet, viewed 
side by side, these episodes well exemplify the great 
truth that the spirit of a free people, whose motto is truth 
and justice, can never change nor deteriorate. There are 
those who tell us that history repeats itself; that as Greece, 
and Rome, and Spain, and the Germanic Confederation have 
fallen in turn, so — at some distant day — will the American 
Republic be humbled in the dust. While these facts give 




'NATHAN HALE' 
The strikingly beautiful statue in 
City Hall Park," New York City, com- 
memorating the foremost martyr of 
the American Revolution. 



232 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

food for most profound thought, we may be assured that 
just so long as we use our inestimable national power with 
"honesty, decency and courage," (as Roosevelt used to ex- 
press it ) the great American Commonwealth for which Hale 
died, patriots fought, and loyal citizens have lived and 
labored, can never perish from the earth . 

The news of Hale's fate came to Washington ; followed 
very soon by tidings to the effect that the enemy had already 
landed at Throg's Neck on the northern shore of the Sound, 
had been met and repulsed by a detachment of Americans, 
but were evidently preparing to repeat this attempt in force. 
Thereupon the Commander-in-chief, after reconnoitering 
the British position, gathered his officers together in the 
spacious 'council ro( m' at the Morris House to make the 
great decision as to abandonment of Manhattan Island. 

A year ago, upon a raw and windy November afternoon, 
my companion and myself sat in the same commodious, 
octagonal chamber on the ground floor of the mansion. The 
white-paneled room, with its broad window-seats, old-fash- 
ioned mahogany furniture and rag rugs — partially conceal- 
ing the wide-boarded floor — was warm and comfortable, the 
bright paper upon the walls seeming to invite us to make 
ourselves at home and stay awhile. Outside, the doleful 
wind sighed among the trees, a swinging vine ever and anon 
tapping fretfully against a square-paned window. We were 
alone. My friend leaned forward and half whispered the 
query, "what is there about this room that 'gets you' ?" 

Had I been an authority on psychic phenomena I might 
have given an intelligent answer. But possessing no 
mediumistic powers, I endeavored to explain that it was the 
association of ideas, that we — transients of a day — pictured 
ourselves in the presence of 'Washington in Council' and 
involuntarily became a part of that celebrated group of 
notables. How perfectly natural, too, to fill the chairs with 
uniformed figures in blue and homespun-buff: W^ashington, 
with one knee thrown across the other and hands folded 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 233 

upon the ivory hilt of his sword, resting — cane fashion — upon 
the floor. Here also is Greene, still wan from illness; Charles 
Lee, back from the South and itching for more renown ; 
Putnam, stout and puffing; Knox, gazing abstractedly into 
the fire; Wayne, fussy and irritable; Reed, the resourceful 
Philadelphia lawyer; Glover, sunburned and brawny; and 
Colonel Harrison, the 'old secretary,' adjusting his spectacles 
preparatory to a deliberate reading of the dispatches. Surely 









--«.«^ 


V;?^-- 


■-'-■■--' ■•' — "^^ 




^tisam^ieaant 



THROG'S NECK, WESTCHESTER CO., N. Y. 

The scene of the first British landing prior to the Battle of White Plains. On this 

ground they were repulsed b.v the Americans. The buildings illustrated 

comprise the barracks, storehouses and defenses of modern Fort Schuyler 

the councils at the Morris House would have merited all 
the descriptive powers of a clever military correspondent , 
but — unfortunately — there was in those days no versatile 
Richard Harding Davis to 'cover' the proceedings. 

I visited Westchester County not long ago and tramped 
out to Throg's Neck in order properly to understand the 
situation which confronted the American leaders at this 
critical juncture. The estuaries of Long Island Sound cut 
deeply into the northern shore line, and from the Harlem 
River all the way to Rhode Island there were hundreds of 
ideal landing places from which the enemy might select in 
planning a flanking enterprise. The modern Fort Schuyler 
occupies the end of the historic Throg's Neck peninsula, 
and — with its Long Island companion, Fort Totten — defends 
the Sound at its narrowest point. It was where Fort 



234 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



Schuyler now stands that, on October 12th, 1776, the Brit- 
ish made their initial attempt to gain lodgment in West- 
chester. Nothing within the limits of the fort is reminiscent 
of Revolutionary times, the existing batteries of heavy coast 
artillery being modern developments of earlier defences 
erected as a Civil War precaution. The narrow causeway 
or land approach to the present fortification was the scene of 
the cleverly officered and spirited skirmish which checked 
the advance of the first British landing parties and convinced 
them that it were better to try again at some spot less stoutly 
defended. Hence it came about that several days elapsed 
before they did actually gain a foothold on the mainland. 




UL1> JIAKN, THKOG S NKCK. AVEST(_ HKSTKK 



Not until the 18th did Howe withdraw his 4000 troops from 
Throg's Neck and make the successful landing at Pell's 
Point on the Hutchinson River, near the present Pelham 
Bay Park, known so well to the boys of our 'war navy' as 
a training place for 'rookies'. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 235 

I must say that the Throg's Neck section of West- 
Chester is delightfully unchanged, remaining an open rural 
countryside with the azure indentations of the Sound seen 
to the right and left. The old Havemeyer House, a half- 
mile from the point — with its quarter-circle attic windows 
and spooky vacancy — suggest the days of Whig and Tory, 
while its ruined out-buildings afford opportunities for artis- 
tic picture-taking which one is loath to miss. The roadway 
along the 'neck', running to Westchester village and the 
heart of the Bronx, is the original highway of Colonial times, 
connecting with the Boston Post Road near modern Bronx 
Park. 

The author experiences but one regret while indulging 
in these historic rambles, and that is the fact that those 
for whom he Writes — living perhaps in the new America, the 
Dakotas, Texas or Oregon, — have not the privilege of study- 
ing history at first hand, which can only come through 
actual contact with these storied regions, but which ought to 
be shared by every American rather than monopolized by 
the dwellers in the 'effete East'. 

It was agreed by the officers in council at the Morris 
House, that it was imperative to display a front to the flank- 
ing Britishers, yet likewise inexpedient to abandon the posi- 
tion on the Heights of Harlem. So Colonel Magaw was 
left at Fort Washington, (to 'stick to the finish,' as it 
proved). Greene was placed in charge of Fort Lee on the 
Jersey palisades, and Washington, withdrawing the main 
body of the army into Westchester County, stretched them 
along the thirteen mile ridge of hills skirting the little 
Bronx River, and well to the windward of the British, whose 
well-disposed lines extended in the same general direction 
from New Rochelle to Mamaroneck. On the 21st of October 
Washington left the Morris House, and on the 23rd we find 
him at White Plains. Realizing that an engagement was 
pending, both antagonists skirmished for position, Wash- 
ington pulled in his lines toward White Plains on the 26th, 



236 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



and — intrenching himself on the lower reaches of the hills 
to the north and west of the present town, — awaited the 
enemy's attack. 




THK I'.KONX RIVER AT WHITE PLAINS 

The traveler, following the windings of this little stream as he journeys 

from New York by rail, cannot fail to understand Washington's motives 

in occupying the chain of hills which flank it on the west from 

the Harlem River to White Plains. 

October 28th, 1776, is the historic date in the chronicles 
of this region. On that day, Washington, reinforced by Lee, 
met the assault of the enemy. The British concentrated 
their first effort upon the outlying Chatterton's Hill and 
carried it by storm after a stubborn fight, but the enter- 
prise consumed the better part of a day and, as was the 
case at Long Island, they desisted from their labors until 
the morrow. Again that morrow proved unfavorable; rain 
fell in torrents, and the patriots gained time for a further 
strengthening of their works. Bad weather continued; the 
British were still thinking it over on the 31st. Then, during 
the night. Washington resorted to his favorite trick, and 
quietly stole away to the heights of North Castle, five miles 
to the north, losing nothing by the movement but greatly 
disgusting the British 'general staff', to whom the prospect 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



237 



of staging another indecisive fight was rather tiresome. 
Evidently they made up their minds that a further pursuit 
was useless, for they abandoned the neighborhood of White 
Plains on November 4th. Striking their tents, they marched 
overland to Dobb's Ferry on the Hudson, where — by a 
formidable concentration of troops — they soon had Wash* 
ington speculating once more as to their next objective. 

Illustrative of the struggle in Westchester, there is 
much in and about White Plains of lively 
interest. Yet. to follow the drift of 
events in 1776, we must 
divorce ourselves from 
'i . ^'^^s^ the m o d e r n 




THE MONUMENT 

ON CHATTERTON'S HILL. 

WHITE PLAINS. This was the 

summit of the American position which 

the British carried by storm, Oct. 28th. 1776. 

town — wliich has grown remarkably — and remember that 
in those days the houses hereabout were few and far 
between, and that Chatterton's Hill, directly opposite the 
railway station and now covered with prosperous looking 
residences, was then merely a barren summit, and an ideal 
battleground for defensive purposes. The upward climb, 
now made easy by improved roads, must have been an 
unpleasant ordeal for the troops of Rahl and Leslie, galled 



238 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



as they were by the fire of the patriots. We cannot but 
admire their 'grit' and acknowledge that the carrying of so 
formidable a position was a noteworthy and unusual 
achievement. 

There is a monument on the summit of the hill, com- 
memorative of the battle; a somehwat frail pedestal of 
granite — narrating 
the story of the 
assault — which is 
surmounted by a 
slender deck gun 
from the battleship 
'Maine'. By its side 
is a tall flag-staff 
surrounded by a pile 

f heavy calibre 
cannon balls picked 
up in the vicinity. 

1 am safe in saying 
that very few cas- 
ual visitors to 
White Plains have 
trudged up to this 

^1 , ON THE ROAD TO WASHINGTON'S HKADQUA RTRKi 

spot upon the crest white plains, n. y. 

r iU U "n V, This is the identical iron mortar, of which a sketch may be fov 

01 trie nnl, nor nave Lossing's "Revolutionary Field Book." Mounted upon a rough 

. granite base, it now marks the site of the Am 

they known of its existence. 'rearguard llnes' after the battle of White I'l 

The same may be said regarding another interesting 
site in the opposite end of the town, where one of the 
ancient intrenchments may still be seen. This is located 
on the south side of Broadway, a purely residential sec- 
tion of White plains, and is marked by a rough-hewn block 
of stone supporting an ancient iron mortar found nearby. 
This was one of the advanced positions of the American 
outposts after the initial engagement on Chatterton's Hill, 
when they lay awaiting the further movements of the 
British. Besides the heavy howitzer, there is a bronze 




THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



239 



tablet which by its inscription strives to impress the reader 
with the fact that Sir Wilham Howe — checked in his con- 
templated annihilation of Washington's army, — made no 
further attempts in this direction. This site, upon the 
ancient highway, (the Port Chester road,) is one of the 
most interesting milestones in the long course of the 'fight- 
ing retreat.' 

Washington's headquarters during the greater part of 
his operations in Westchester was located at what is 
now North White Plains, a mile and more beyond the 
above mentioned redoubt. The humble cottage then occu- 
pied by Andrew and Elizabeth Miller was a well chosen 
retreat, for it occupied a secluded position in a charming 




"NEAR TO NATURE'S HEART" 

Not the tree (as the sign might seem to indicate) but a cottage 

near at hand was Washington's Headquarters. 

little dell, contiguous to the main highway running north 
and south, and behind it was an open 'get away' to the 
region of the Hudson in the event of unforeseen develop- 
ments. The modern tourist approaching from White Plains 
is guided by a sign nailed to the famous old oak tree before 
an ancient crossroads inn. The inn is 'dry' and the tree 



240 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 




WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS AT WHITE PLAINS, N. Y. 

Benson J. Lossing, in his 'Field Book' of seventy years ago, presen ts an easily 

recognizable sketch of this old house. Even the big tree which to-day 

spreads its branches over the ancient roof is clearly shown. 

is dead: time having gnawed a great hollow in its sturdy 
heart after a century and a half of beauty and service. 
Without question it existed in Washington's day, and even 
in its present state of decay it serves as a fitting adjunct 
to the little cottage in the wildwood 'handy by'. 

Not until very recently did the Miller House become 
state property, yet through all these years of private owner- 
ship it has changed but little. Here, from October 23rd to 
the 10th of November (1776) the Commander tarried; and 
the fact that he returned again in the summer of 1778 — 
after the battle of Monmouth — and remained from July 
20th to Sept. 22nd, besides a final sojourn in 1781 (while 
dickering with the French allies), surely speaks well for the 
Millers and their brand of patriotism. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 241 

Strange, but true, the White Plams Headquarters has 
not been widely exploited, and in seeking it out one natur- 
ally feels that he has done something essentially praise- 
worthy and patriotic. You will certainly be deeply im- 
pressed by the simplicity of the little frame cottage, and 
its seclusion and pleasingly-evident lack of 'restoration' 
make it doubly attractive. 

As to the historic Bronx River, you will find it noth- 
ing more than an unostentatious little brook meandering 
tranquilly through the countryside and humbly preserving 
its equanimity except where, impounded upon one or other 
of the palatial estates at Scarsdale or Hartsdale, it has been 
spoiled by the luxury of its modern surroundings and per- 
suaded to splash noisily over a few artificial cataracts. 

With the withdrawal of the British to Dobb's Ferry, 
Washington again bestirred himself and hastened to face 
the uncertain issues of a new emergency. 

While deploring the very evident plight of Magaw on 
the Heights of Harlem, ( for the British had effectually 
placed themselves between Fort Washington and the main 
American Army ) Washington dared not forget the possibil- 
ity of a still more critical situation which might arise were 
the British to divert a portion of their troops into New 
Jersey and 'steal a march on him' in the direction of Phil- 
adelphia. With that city as well as New York in their 
possession, the enemy might well consider their work of 
subjugation more than half done. Washington dreaded 
such a contingency and did all he could to avoid it, yet 
he was to witness this very situation a year hence, — in 
spite of which the patriot cause lived on. In 1776 however, 
the Commander could not foresee the worst, and was ever 
on the alert to forestall any schemes to this end which 
might be lurking beneath the powder-sprinkled wig of Lord 
Howe. 

So early as the 9th of November, we find Washington 
in communication with Jersey's governor, and making pre- 



242 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



paratory movements of troops across the Hudson from 
Peekskill to Stony Point by way of King's Ferry. Upon 
the following day he himself left North Castle, bidding fare- 
well to the ambitious Lee, with whom he left a command 
amply sufficient to protect the Highlands, with the admoni- 
tion to carry the troops into New Jersey without delay 
should the Brit- 
ish decide to 
press the cam- 
paign in that 
'sector'. 

Two more days 
were spent by the 
Commander i n 
reconnoitering the 
river positions 
with the trust- 
worthy Heath, 
into whose hands 
he confided the 
final keeping of 
the great river 
and its defenses 
should it be nec- 
essary for Lee to move southward. Then, riding down the 
west shore, he arrived at Fort Lee on the 13th, where — to 
his great chagrin — he learned that the Fort Washington 
garrison hi ' not only failed to evacuate before the meshes 
had closed around them, but had drawn heavy reinforce- 
ments from the Jersey side, so that now over twenty-five 
hundred men ivere in a fair way to be trapped. Yet Gen- 
eral Greene persisted in his optimism. Nevertheless Wash- 
ington, in anticipation of the retreat which he was con- 
vinced must shortly be undertaken, rode over the meadows 
of New Jersey to the town of Hackensack, in order to 'get 
the lay of the land' in his rear. 




Looking across the Hudson, from Fort Lee. N. J., tow. 
site of Fort Washington, New York City. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



243 



Did the defenders of Fort Washington really have a 
chance of beating off their besiegers? No, they did not; 
but I am of the (jpinion that they felt over-confident of 
their position because of the unsuccessful attack which the 
enemy had made by land and water on the 27th of October. 
While Washington was busily engaged at White Plains, the 
defenders of Manhattan Heights had, with the help of the 
batteries of Fort Lee, managed to parry the first assault, 
and — having beaten off the enemy — they lingered in false 
security until the odds against 
them became fatally overwhelm- 
ing. 

No one who has visited the 
site of Fort Washington can 
doubt the strength of the posi- 
tion. The underlying strata of 
rock which forms the backbone 
of Manhattan Island here crops 
to the surface, and for a mile or 
more rises in a rugged plateau, 
flanked on three sides by most 
difficult approaches. Like Jeru- 
salem, the place offered great de- 
fensive possibilities, its rocky 
and wooded slopes affording 
natural barriers upon all sides 
save the south — that facing the 
lower portion of the island. 
With ten thousand men and two 
hundred cannon to protect its 
outer works. Fort W^ashington 
could have withstood everything 
but famine. As it was, its great extent proved its ruin. 
The many avenues of approach, inadequately defended, 
yielded to superior numbers, and the inner fortifications, — 
merely earthworks thrown up on the summit of the hill — 




FORT WASHINGTON MONUMENT, 
Bennett Estate, New York City 

(Photo by Joseph C. Davidson) 



244 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 





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Remains of earthwork rifle-redoubt, PORT WASHINGTON PARK, 
New York City. (Photo by Joseph C. Davidson). 

were quite easily surrounded and rendered ineffective once 
the outlying defenders had been driven in. 

Early in November the Hessian general, Knyphausen, 
had commenced operations by cutting off the means of 
egress to the north ; on the 14th Howe had crossed the 
Harlem River from Fordham Heights in Westchester, 
while from New York City another force had advanced men- 
acingly near the weakest side of the American position. No 
attempt was made by the besiegers to assail the works from 
the side of the Hudson, where the defenses approached 
close to the river, and upon that side, had they moved in 
time, the Americans could have made a dignified exit. 
Instead, they put up a stiff fight to their assailants along 
the great arc of outer positions, only giving ground after 
desperate resistance. But slowly and surely they were 
forced into their last lines on the brow of the hill and on 
the 15th of November came a first summons to surrender 
which was rejected. That evening, at nightfall, Washington 
rejoined the garrison at Fort Lee, after his reconnaissance 
in Bergen County, and was apprized of the critical situ- 
ation across the river. Determining at last to take a hand 
in the proceedings, he is said to have hastily embarked for 
the New York shore, but encountering Greene and Putnam 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 245 

in midstream, to have been persuaded to return to Jersey 
after a brief consultation. I do not understand why he did 
not attempt to draw off at least a portion of the Fort Wash- 
ington garrison that night, for it seems that communications 
were still open. The next morning, after the final attack 
had been launched by the enemy, he sent a message to 
Golonel Magaw offering to assist should flight be attempted, 
but it was then too late. 

From the brow of the Palisades, whose rocky bulwarks 
echoed and re-echoed to the thunder of cannon and the 
crack of musketry, Washington witnessed, through rifts in 
the smoke, the progress of the last struggle, realizing that 
nothing short of a miracle could save the patriot cause from 
another crushing disaster. Had he been on the scene in 
person, he would have witnessed the spectacle of a hand-to- 
hand encounter, with the gallant combatants of both armies 
grappling in a life and death struggle. Time and time again 
the attacking forces were driven back, only to renew the 
assault with the courage of desperation. At last, when two 
thousand Americans had been driven into their inner 
trenches and further resistance was evident folly, the flag 
of the patriots slid limply down the staff to be replaced by 
the triumphant ensign of Great Britain. From his post 
of observation, Washington saw the outcofne of the contest 
and realized full well the import of the disaster. In fact, 
during the entire period of the Revolution, no engagement 
was so costly to the patriot cause. At Fort Washington 
almost a third of the fighting force of the colonies was lost. 

The scene of this historic engagement is well worth a 
visit and is easily accessible from any point in New York 
City, although it is still away up town. Fort Washington 
Park is a public reservation between Riverside Drive and 
the Hudson, as yet in an unimproved state and one of the 
few remaining spots in the great metropolis where you may 
encounter the old fashioned picnic parties, and clamber 
over rocks and through green fields without restraint or 



-246 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

"Keep-off-the-Grass" warnings. In the old days, before the 
advent of the numerous electric railways, the little Fort 
Washington station of the N. Y. Central railroad near 173rd 
Street was a stopping place of some importance, not merely 
for the occasional visitor to the 'fort,' but for the Harlemites 
who dwelt nearby. But now the poor old depot has been 
abandoned and its doors and windows are boarded up, for 
the line has been entirely given over to freight traffic. The 
'park' is a great resort for idlers, very few of whom appear 
to appreciate the significance of the surroundings. On the 
occasion of my first visit I was somewhat amused by the 
spectacle of a meditative old gentleman seated upon the 
porch of the shelter house absorbed in the plot of a Laura 
Jean Libby novel, solaced by a corn-cob pipe and edified 
by the company of a gray tabby-cat, peacefully sleeping 
Upon his knees. 

While the most interesting portion rf this historic 
ground is compassed within the municipal reservation, the 
spot best known to New Yorkers is that upon the higher 
ridge much nearer the Harlem River, where some scant 
traces of the inner lines of intrenchments may still be de- 
tected. Above 181st Street, Fort Washington Avenue tra- 
verses the brow of the hill running north and south, and 
here, upon the estate of the late James Gordon Bennett of 
New York Herald fame, has been erected a very effective 
monument. This interesting landmark has been built 
against the cliff at the side of the road, where all who pass 
inay read Upon its inscribed tablet the record of Revolution- 
ary heroism. It is surmounted by a formidable looking 
cannon, and at its base is a wide marble seat where the 
Stroller, en route to the northern end of Manhattan and 
Kingsbridge, may pause and rest awhile. 

Surprising as it may seem, this memorial narrowly escaped 
destruction when, a few months ago, the Bennett estate 
was auctioned off piecemeal. Had it not been for the timely 
intervention of seme history-loving citizens, this plot would 



THE FIGHTING RETREA I 



247 



have been sold, with its companions, for building purposes. 
As it is, the site in its entirety is ruined, and all the hilltop 
where the patriot garrison made its final stand will soon be 
desecrated by modern apartments. During the lifetime of 
the elder Bennett, whose mansion occupied the spot, such 



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JEFFREYS HOOK, FORT WASHINGTON, and one of the historic 

iron rings used in the fai-ttning of the first river obstruction 

between this point and Fort Lee, opposite — 1776. 

commercialism was undreamed of. Up to the present, how- 
ever, the property has not been greatly disturbed, and for 
a little while longer we may enjoy its unspoiled simplicity. 
This upper section of Fort Washington is not so very 
far from the Alorris- Jumel mansion and it is easy to take 
in both localities within the limits of a long afternoon. 
Combined with a detour down to the banks of the Hudson, 
the excursion will prove a most comprehensive lesson in 
Revolutionary history. First of all, the student will gain 
an adequate conception of the events during the summer 
and fall of 1776, and will see for himself the vast extent of 



248 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

territory covered by the military operations of that period. 
He will find no books upon the subject half so enlightening 
as this bit of personal investigation. After viewing the hill 
and its rough approaches — even after the lapse of a cen- 
tury and a half — he will scarcely censure General Greene 
for believing the fort to be impregnable. Even the British 
historians admit that their troops and the supporting Hes- 
sians had a tough time of it before they succeeded in corner- 
ing the defenders. 

The main redoubt which commanded the Hudson 
River, or — as some have called it — the 'rifle-pit', lies about 
half way down the slope, and is within the area of the 
'park'. It is the only earthwork remaining which is in a 
good state of preservation to-day, and it was, perhaps, the 
strongest of the outlying positions. This intrenchment was 
not carried by the direct-assault of the enemy, for the brunt 
of their attack fell upon the northern and easterly 
approaches to the hill. 

That there may be no mistaking this historic trench, 
the Daughters of the Revolution have set up a flag-staff and 
a conspicuous marker, the latter consisting merely of a 
large field-stone placed on end, Druid fashion, with the 
inscription "American Redoubt, — 1776" chiseled boldy upon 
its uneven contour. To my knowledge this is the only 
instance where so simple an expedient has been employed 
to serve a similar purpose. 

Down on the bank of the Hudson is Jeffrey's Hook, a 
little promintory of rock behind which, in those eventful 
summer days, a one-gun lunette was constructed. Between 
this point and the Jersey side of the river near Fort Lee, the 
first make-shift obstruction of the channel had been 
attempted. 

A lighthouse has now been erected upon the little reef, 
but just behind it are the remains of the artificial bank of 
earth piled up in 1776 to protect the gunners, while if you 
will examine the rocks themselves you will find dozens 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



249 



of drill-holes and several of the iron rings and bolts to 
which the ineffectual chevaux-de-frise was anchored; all 
of which serve to substantiate history's interesting narra- 
tive. 

I have visited Jeffrey's Hook half a dozen times and 
on each occasion I seem to be repaid by some interesting 
experience. One sum- 
mer afternoon I 
watched an artist at 
work, with some of the 
juvenile bathers for his 
models; at another 
time — in mid-winter, I 
had the pleasure of 
viewing the great At- 
lantic fleet of Vlread- 
naughts' lying in the 
river after their return 
from the war zone. It 
was New Year's Day, a 
cold drizzling rain was 
falling and the Hudson 
was overhung with a 

, THK REDOUBT MONUMENT — ^FORT WASHINGTON 

heavy bank Ot log (Photo by Joseph C. DavicUon) 

through which the outlines of the battleships loomed dim 
and spectral. 

From the point of the hook, off which the northern- 
most of the flotilla lay half enshrouded in the mist, the 
long line extended down the river to the beginning of Riv- 
erside Drive — a distance of five miles; an impressive spec- 
tacle of American naval power. As I stood by the light- 
house I fervently wished that Washington could come back 
from the spirit realm and see with mortal vision a sight far 
greater than ever he had pictured through the eyes of 
faith, Washington hoped much for the future of America, 
even in dark moments like that when Fort Washington fell, 




250 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

yet I do not believe his expectations went farther than the 
dream of a peaceful and prosperous community — stretching 
from the sea to the Mississippi — which should be an exam- 
ple of good government to the rest of humanity. That 
America should one day redeem the world was beyond his 
most sanguine aspirations. Yet these very ships, lying with- 
m gunshot of ill-fated Fort Washington, had proven the 
deciding factor in that same noble process of redemption ! 

The fall of Fort Washington, following within three 
short months upon the disastrous battle of Long Island, 
placed the American army in a precarious situation. Man- 
hattan Island was now irretrievably lost, and General 
Washington foresaw that very shortly he must move into 
the interior of New Jersey if he would save the remnant 
of his forces from destruction. With this object in mind, 
he began to transfer his stores and ammunition to a place 
of safety. Four days had thus been consumed, when tid- 
ings came to the effect that 60C0 troops under Cornwallis 
had crossed the Hudson from Yonkers and had landed on 
the Jersey shore in the neighborhood of Closter; further- 
more, that they were marching rapidly in the direction of 
Fort Lee, with the evident intention of out-flanking the' 
Araercan position and cutting off the retreat of the garrison. 

Alay we once more deviate from the prosaic historic 
narrative, and visit for ourselves the unfamiliar section of 
the western bank of the Hudson, where the British began 
their famous chase after Washington? The precise locality 
is known to-day as Alpine Landing; but is referred to in 
most old books as 'Gloster Dock'. A narrow strip of low- 
lying shore here skirts the rugged precipices of the Pali- 
sades, to the summit of which the ascent may be made by a 
winding trail, shaded by luxuriant trees. The ferry to 
Yonkers, on the New York shore, carries passengers, but no 
vehicles, and it is the pedestrian, pure and simple, who may 
enjoy the climb to the heights along the path seldom if 
ever (disturbed by horse and wagon. T'p to a few years 



THE FlCiHTING RETREAT S51 

ixgo, there were those who feared that m time to come the 
beauties of the Palisades would be destroyed by the stone 
tcrusher, the wood-cutter and the builder of factories, but 
of this dire possibility there is now little chance, for the 
-beautiful 'Inter-state Park' which begins just at this historic 
point and extends for many miles up the river, has the 
sovereign guarantee of both New Jersey and New York 
that it shall remain forever a natural reservation of scenic 
loveliness. The descent of the Palisades at this point is 
almost as fatiguing as the climb, for the declivity is quite 
:sharp in places. Should you happen to lose your footing 
and stumble, the probability is that you would go rolling 
down the slope with more grace than elegance. Even 
though you keep your feet, the pulling force of gravity 
along this rugged trail is really surprising. 

Nevertheless, I enjoin you to visit Alpine, where — in 
the fall of the year, especially — you will see nature at her 
best. Gorgeously clotherl in orange and red, every tree 
seems to be tempting the fleeting season of Indian summer 
to tarry yet a little longer. The squeaking little chipmunk, 
however, realizes full well that winter is at hand; and his 
Irantic haste as he darts around among the mountain laurel 
seeking for more chestnuts for his already well-stocked 
larder, will do your soul a world of good and make you smile, 
whether you will or no, in the sheer delight of beholding his 
bustling and tireless energy. 

Down by the water's edge remains an ancient dwelling 
known as "Cornwallis' Lodge,'' in which that ubiquitous 
nobleman spent his first night in New Jersey, following the 
landing of his command. Well preserved by repeated appli- 
cations of whitewash within and without, its roof and trim^ 
"mings painted a dark green, it reminds one rather of a rural 
post-office and general store than an historic landmark. 
Although closed to the public, its doors and windows are 
opened sufficiently to give a satisfactory idea of the interior 
layoat. Besides this old house, the ferry-shed and a refresh- 



252 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



ment pavilion, there are no other buildings at the landing, 
the Alpine village of to-day being perched atop the bluff. 

Whatever else may be said of the Cornwallis House, it 
surely has witnessed some remarkable events; having been 
a silent observer of every one of those historic episodes, 
tragedies, pageants and commercial triumphs which have 
immortalized the 
great river. Some 
twenty years ago 
the building had 
a, narrow escape 
from utter de- 
struction when a 
ponderous frag- 
ment of rock came 
crashing d o w n 
from the mountain 
above. To-day the 
boulder lies where 
it fell, perhaps 
twenty-five feet 
distant from its 
southeast corner ; 
rather a 'close 
call', it w o u 1 d 
seem, for the venerable cliffside cottage. 

The 20th of November it was, in 1776, when Cornwal- 
lis, well satisfied with himself and the world as a whole, 
contrived to get his troops up the rocks and started for 
Fort Lee with really commendable secrecy and dispatch. 
Washington was at Hackensack, and General Greene, 
warned of his danger, began breaking camp with all speed, 
for it was again evident that the rapidly advancing British 
had the best of the situation, leaving no alternative for the 
patriots but instant flight. This hasty abandonment of Fort 
Lee cost the Americans the loss of tents, provisions and a 




eoK.WVALLl.S' lll-;AJ)yLAUTi;i;S AT .M>1'IXK. N. J. 
witli the boulder that marly wrought its ruination. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 253 

great quantity of supplies, with practically all the heavy 
guns of the stationary batteries. 

Washington made no attempt to throw himself into the 
position and put up a defense. To cover the retreat of the 
garrison and to get them safely across the Overpeck Creek 
and the Hackensack River was as much as he could hope 
to accomplish. This indeed was a task of no small magni- 
tude, for these streams, running through miles of 'salt 
meadow' and a waste of tidal marsh-land with banks of 
treacherous quagmire, are — even to this day — rather fright- 
ful barriers. With boats at a premium, and the few roads 
and fewer bridges choked with men and wagons, the march 
of the retiring Americans must have been a miserable 
ordeal. But it stands to reason that the situation of the 
pursuing British was in nowise more enviable. Having 
been cheated of their prey by a few hours, it was their 
unhappy lot to plod on in hot pursuit over roads left much 
the worse for wear, with not a boat of any character — as 
you may well imagine — left for their convenience by the 
fleeing army of Congress. 

The region of all these retrograde movements is con- 
tiguous to New York City and easily reached by the tourist 
from the metropolis. Of Fort Lee itself, scarce a vestige 
remains. Historians claim that its position lay some dis- 
tance back from the river, the batteries which were mounted 
on the Palisades being merely out-lying works. In that 
case, Fort Lee could have been little more than a fortified 
encampment. In support of this theory, some of the older 
residents of the village (which lies back of the cliffs) claim 
to have seen the remains of soldiers' ovens cut in the rocks 
which crop out here and there throughout the town. 

Upon the conspicuous point of rock overlooking the 
present Fort Lee ferry we may distinguish some old 
masonry, half overgrown with weeds and sumac. Here, it 
is conjectured, one or two guns Wi^re mounted; and very 
likely Washington stood somewhere near this coigne of 



254 



THE FIGPITING RETREAT 



vantage, a helpless spectator, during the attack on the fort 
— named in his honor — upon the opposite shore of the river. 
In the village of Fort Lee there is a rather interesting monu- 
ment dedicated to the soldiers of the Revolution, to which 
there has recently been appended 
a bronze plaque commemor- 
ating the name of one of the 
local boys who fell 'in Flanders' 
fields.' 

The night view of New 
York, which may be obtained 
from the crest of the Jersey 
Palisades, is one long to be re- 
membered. When darkness has 
fallen, the majestic Hudson be- 
comes a great gulf of blackness, 
beyond which — as far as eye can 
see — gleam the twinkling lights 
of the phantom, fairy city. Tru- 
ly the spectacle is of iiuch sur- 
passing beauty that no rambler 
who spends an afternoon at thk fort lep: monumkkt 
Fort Lee can afford to miss it. Bring with you, then, a suf- 
ficiency of eatables, build yourself a little camp-fire as even- 
ing approaches, roast a few 'spuds' among the embers. 
Then, solaced by your faithful brier pipe — satisfied in body 
and contented in mind — you may await the vision beautiful. 
Your own little fire will flicker and die out; the golden 
radiance of passing day will fade from the western sky before 
the fast creeping shadows of night; but yonder great and 
mighty city — like an allegorical picture of the existence for 
which we hope "beyond the river"— springs, as at the touch 
of an unseen hand, into radiance and activity. 

An electric line now runs from Fort Lee to Hacken- 
sack, spanning the uncompromising bogs by means of slen- 
der trestles. The western slopes of the Palisades are fast 




THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



255 



'building up', and may almost be considered as bits of 
suburban New York ; but Hackensack, true to its traditions, 
remains a genuine 'Jersey Dutch' town, its main street 
stretching along the river for two miles — much the same as 
when laid out by its stalwart pioneers. The Hackensack 
River has always been navigable, and to accommodate the 
ocean-going tug-boats ( which have succeeded the picturesque 
'wind-jammers' of early days) there is a series of fine draw- 
bridges, over which pass all the modern highways and rail- 
roads entering Hudson County from Bergen and Essex. 

There has been a wide divergence of opinion as to 
where Washington crossed the Hackensack. Some histor- 
ians maintain that 
it was away up- 
stream at River 
Edge, others that 
it was as far down 
as Little Ferry. 
Mr. Burton H. 
Allbee, for many 
years a leading 
spirit in the Ber- 
gen County His- 
torical Society, has 
made this matter a 
subject of special study, and it is upon his authority that 
I state the fact, without fear of contradiction, that the 
main body of the Continental Army passed over the river 
by way of the so-called 'New Bridge',* into what is now 
North Hackensack, thence marching into the ancient Hack- 
ensack village by the long main street. There can be little 
doubt that the army moved westward • from Fort Lee along 
the much-traveled highway which passes through the mod- 
ern town of Leonia, but here — I conjecture — the columns 




'WASHINGTON PASSED THIS WAY' 
Th<" bronze tablet before the Presbyterian Church 
Leonia, N^ J., on the route of Washington's line of 
retreat to Hackensack in 1776. 



* Thomas Paine, in his account of the retreat from Port Lee, particularly men- 
tions that the Hackensack was crossed at the 'new bridge'. 



256 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

divided. Some, without question, took the southerly route 
and were conveyed across the Hackensack by every avail- 
able boat to be had at Little Ferry; others, quite likely, 
journeyed as far to the north as the 'old bridge', passing over 
the river at what is now River Edge. But it was the then 
'new bridge', only three miles above Hackensack town, 
which offered the most logical and convenient place of cross- 
ing for the majority of the retreating garrison of Fort Lee. 
Below this point, a passage by boat would have been the 
only alternative. 

It would appear that Washington gave some thought 
to the possibility of maintaining a successful stand at the 
North Hackensack bridge-head, but he seems to have 
promptly abandoned the idea. Had he hoped for a brief 
respite after the hasty flight from Fort Lee, he was doomed 
to disappointment, for the British — having gotten the 
patriots 'on the run' — were not disposed to give them 
breathing time. So ardently did they keep up the pursuit 
that the Americans,— having passed over the river late in 
the afternoon of the 20th of November in a cold and drizz- 
ling rain — beheld, from their bivouac in Hackensack town, 
the blazing fires of the Hessians encamped upon the farther 
shore. From available records, we gather that Washington's 
army had, at this time, dwindled down to a scant three 
thousand; hence his reluctance to hazard the chances of a 
pitched battle. We are not surprised, therefore, when we 
read of his dispatching the remnants of his supplies to 
Acquackanonk f Passaic) and making speedy preparations 
to once again 'hit the trail' with the meagre force at his 
command. 

The historic sites in Hackensack are closely grouped: 
the Mansion House Tavern (formerly the Zabriskie resi- 
dence), where Washington stopped, the time-honored Dutch 
Reformed Church, the grave of General Enoch Poor, and the 
monument recently erected in his honor upon the village 
green, where, it is generally supposed, the American Army 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



257 



bivouacked after their weary entry into the village, into 
which they had come — as described by an eye-witness — 
"marching two abreast, ragged, some without a shoe to 
their feet, and most of them wrapped in their blankets." 

Washington, with his Life Guard, a regiment of foot, 
and a few cavalrymen, lingered in the town until the fol- 
lowing day ; riding along the river side, before his departure, 
to view the encampment of the enemy upon the opposite 
shore. Even as he watched, word came from up-stream, 
that they were making preparations to repair the bridge 
which the Americans had disabled. 

Quite frequently, on warm summer evenings, I have 

ridden over from 
Paterson to Hack- 
ensack to stand be- 
side the river, 
usually accompan- 
ied by one of my 
historically- 
inclined friends. 
The illuminated- 
windows of Bogota 
upon the opposite 
shore create an im- 
pression not unlike that of the Hessian camp-fires seen so 
clearly by the anxious eyes of Washington. This is one of 
the places, where as we follow in his footsteps, we come close 
to the heart of our great Revolutionary leader. The silence 
of the night, the swift and broad river with a flowing tide, 
the star-sprinkled sky above, and the phantom figure — 
wrapped in a great-coat — which is wont to appear beside us, 
(seemingly summoned from the spirit-world at our bidding 
and gazing fixedly into the darkness) impart a thrill — nay, 
an all-absorbing psychic spell — from which we cannot dis- 
solve ourselves, nor would we if we could. 

The old Dutch Reformed Church at Hackensack has 




THE HACKENSACK RIVER, BERGEN CO., N. J. 

Bridge connecting Hackensack and Bogota. The 'New 
Bridge' of Revolutionary days was some three miles 
up-stream, but this was the site of 'Hacken- 
sack Dock' a century and more ago. 



258 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



been remodeled, in part, since the patriot army camped be- 
fore its doors, but embedded within its outer walls are many 
of the ancient dated and inscribed stones which were por- 
tions of the original structure erected in 1696, and which 
have looked upon gallant Washington and doughty Corn- 
wallis. The village 
green, directly op- 
posite, is note- 
worthy. Here, 
about noon on the 
day following the 
withdrawal of the 
Continentals, the 
in-coming Hes- 
sians pitched 
camp, ''a horrid 
sight to the inhab- 
itants," as an old 
writer expressed it, 
"with their whis- 
kers and brass 
caps. (Quite evi- dutch reformed church, HACKENSACK, N. J. 

dentlv DrototVDeS ^'^'^ding to-day, as it did when Lafayette visited the town in 1824. 

of some of the husky Bavarians who over-ran Belgium in 
the early months of the World War, made hideous by un- 
shaven faces and trench helmets.) 

That the inhabitants of Hackensack were in great fear 
of the 'hated Hessians' is evidenced by the following story, 
which also illustrates the good sense of Washington: 

The Commander was about to depart, the tavern-keeper grasping his hand in 
farewell as he sat in the saddle. Already the enemy were pounding away in their 
hasty reconstruction-work at the bridge, not many miles distant. "What shall I do?" 
asked the worthy citizen anxiously, "I have considerable property here and a family 
of small children." "Mr. Campbell," returned the General, "stay by your property 
and keep neutral." With that, he galloped ofif to overtake his army. 

The most notable gravestone in the cemetery beside 
the Hackensack church is that of General Enoch Poor, the 
gallant New Hampshire officer, who 'died in the harness' 




THE FIGHTING RETREAT 259 

during the latter years of the war, when the village had once 
again become American territory. His death occurred in 
1780, a few miles to the north of this village. Both Washing- 
ton and Lafayette attended his funeral, and the latter, who 
was deeply attached to General Poor, made it a point to 
visit his grave on his last American tour. At that time the 
church edifice appeared exactly as it does to-day, and over 
the brownstone slab, as we now see it, the most noble of 
all Frenchmen stood with uncovered head, as — after the 
lapse of forty long years — he came to pay the tender tribute 
of remembrance. 

Maurice Maeterlink, in his "Blue Bird," gives expression 
to the beautiful thought that the departed ones are con- 
scious of our loving recollection. In the Land of Memory 
we may thus visit and commune with them. Never are 
they so lonely in the spirit realm as when forgotten by 
loved ones left behind. Regard as you will this fantasy, but 
learn from Lafayette the lesson that great loves and friend- 
ships need not be swallowed by the grave. Rather than 
'strive to forget' those whom we have loved, long since, let 
us keep them within the warmth of our affections. Thus 
cherished, the memories of long ago will never bruise the 
heart-strings, but will prove, in increasing measure, a source 
of reverent joy, compounding like a well- invested legacy. 

The retreat of Washington across the state of New Jer- 
sey is strikingly like that of General Greene before Corn- 
wallis in North Carolina, four and a half years later. Per- 
haps Greene's course in the Southern campaign was influ- 
enced by that of Washington in the present instance, for he 
was one of the Commander's most trusted advisers 
during the march from Fort Lee to the Delaware, despite 
the criticism occasioned by the Fort Washington blunder. 

The rivers Hudson, Hackensack, Passaic and Raritan 
offered natural parallel barriers, extremely dangerous to 
have in one's rear, yet affording a large measure of protec- 
tion if placed between a retreating force and a pursuing 



260 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



enemy. Having, as we have seen, been forced out of Hack- 
ensack town with the enemy in hot pursuit, the position of 
Washington's diminishing forces would have been extreme- 
ly critical if caught on the East bank of the Passaic. The 
crossing of this river, a matter of absolute necessity, was 
accordingly effected with all speed and the march reluctant- 
ly continued toward the south. 

Not a trace now remains of the ancient wooden bridge 
over which the Amer- 
ican army passed on 
the 21st and 22nd of 
November, nor of the 
Blanchard House, in 
which Washington 
put up for one brief 
night. The tradition- 
al point of the cross- 
ing, then famous 
a s "Acquackanonck 
Landing," lies some- 
what south of the bus- 
iness center of mod- 
ern Passaic city, near 
the present extensive 
lumber yards and opposite the old Dutch Church.* Great 
changes have occurred during the fourteen decades which 
have elapsed since these stirring times. A trolley-line 
crosses the river over a nearby drawbridge, a Polish congre- 
gation now worships in the old meeting house, and the 
fences around the grave-yard have been converted into 
kindlings by some of the foreign-born communicants. Still, 
if you search with patience among the old frost-bitten 
tombstones, you may find the grave of John H. Post, a Rev- 
olutionary resident, who departed this life at the ripe age 
of one hundred and four. He it was, according to local his- 




GEN. ENOCH i'UOK S GRAVK 

in the cemetery of the old Dutch Reformed Church, 

Hackensack, N. J. 



* The passenger traveling through Passaic via the Erie Railroad, will observe 
this old church and graveyard, to the east of the Prospect Street station. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



261 



Where Washington 
crossed the Pussaic 
River, Passaic, 
N. J. 



(' o m m e m o r a t i ve 
stone at Passaic 
Park, erected by 
the school-children 
of the city. 




tory, who rendered the bridge hnpassable after it had served 
the turn of the patriot army. The British were exceedingly 
wroth by reason of this discourteous behavior of his, and 
one legend goes so far as to say that the guilty culprit was 
ferretted out from among the townsfolk'and promptly hung. 
If this be true, he must have been speedily resuscitated, 
for — like Lazarus of old — *'he lived many years afterward." 
It is undoubtedly true that Mr. Post and his neighbors 
wrecked the bridge, for the British (who, by the way, did not 
reach Acquackanonck until the 25th) found it so hopeless- 
ly battered, that they forded the ice-cold river rather than 
wait for its restoration. 

Upon the slightly rising ground at Passaic Park, the 
school children have erected an attractive memorial at the 



262 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

spot near which the army passed en route to Newark. Down 
by the river there is an old house erroneously claimed by 
many to have sheltered Washington in 1776; it was not 
erected, however, until some time later, although possibly as 
early as 1778. In the stone wall near the church on River 
Drive there used to be a small tablet identifying this as being 
a locality contiguous to the Revolutionary bridge; but when 
last I visited Passaic I searched for it in vain. 

Although Washington remained at Newark for up- 
wards of a week, following his arrival on the 23rd of Novem- 
ber, the location of his headquarters in that city has never 
been satisfactorily established. At the time of the retreat 
across New Jersey, Newark had a population of just about 
one thousand. Along Broad Street — then, as now, the prin- 
cipal thoroughfare — were ranged the residences of the lead- 
ing citizens, some of them being men prcminent in the 
affairs of the state. It would seem logical to suppose that 
the correspondence of these patriots might have preserved 
for our information some clue as to which of them had the 
honor of entertaining the Commander. This, however, is 
not the case. Certainly it was not a time for 'entertain- 
ment', and admittedly there was littV enough occasion for 
felicitation. Some historians maintain that Washington 
ate and slept at the ancient Eagle Tavern, now but a mem- 
cry, others bestow the honor elsewhere. So vague is the 
evidence brought forth to substantiate any of these argu- 
ments, that the writer can do no better than make a frank 
avowal of ignorance in this regard. 

Whatever Newark may lack through the absence of a 
headquarters, the deficiency is more than compensated by 
the possession of the most beautiful representation of 
Washington the soldier that I have ever seen. The strik- 
ingly original conception of horse and rider, surmounting 
a pyramid of earth and enhanced by ample perspective, is a 
tribute well worthy of any community. Graceful in the 
extreme, the effect is far more pleasing than pompous; the 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



263 



prominence given the restless charger in no sense detracting 
from the benign face, restful pose and contemplative atti- 
tude of the illustrious champion of the American cause. 




WASHINGTON 

Massey Rhind's beautiful statue of the patriot commander, adorning the 

corner of Washington Park and Broad Street, Newark, N. J. 

Presented to the city by Amos H. Vali Horn, 

There can be no doubt that the major portion of Wash- 
ington's immediate command not only passed through New- 
ark, but were encamped upon that very attractive 'breath- 
ing spot' in the heart of busy Newark, now known as Mili- 
tary Park. This reservation was laid out as a civic centre 
when Newark was in its infancy, and many of the New 
Jersey veterans of the Civil War, who yet remain among 
us, recall their preliminary training, received in this historic 
place of mobilization, prior to the 'baptism of fire' at 
Antietam. 

At the upper extremity of Military Park stands the 



264 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



dignified Episcopal Church erected in 1708. The stranger, 
standing beneath its lofty portico and reading the devo- 
tional and historic stones and tablets upon its brownstone 
fagade, cannot fail to realize that the membership of this 
old house of spiritual devotion place next in importance to 
the original purpose of 
this sanctuary — the wor- 
ship of Almighty God — 
—the fact that the shad- 
ow of its lofty spire has 
fallen upon the army of 
Washington, "faint, yet 
pursuing." 

Notwithstanding the 
fact that the personal 
Washington has been lost 
sight of during the week 
of his sojourn in Essex 
County, his unceasing 
labors at this time and 
place are matters of his- 
tory. Here the Com- 
m a n a d e r - in -Chief 
attempted to reorganize 
his badly demoralized 
forces. He sent his sick to Morristown, dispatched a bat- 
talion to Monmouth County under Col. David Forman to 
suppress Tory activities, and appealed once more to the Jer- 
sey Legislature to augment the thinning ranks with fresh 
levies of state troops. On the morning of November 28th 
the British advance guard approached the town, and the 
Commander, still unable to offer a successful resistance, 
again moved southward; one division retreating via Eliza- 
bethtown and Woodbridge, the other taking a more wester- 
ly route through Springfield and Scotch Plains. 

It was at New Brunswick on the Raritan that the next 




NEWARK'S OLD EPISCOPAL CHURCH, 
adjoining Military Park; and facing historic 
Broad Street, along which passed 
the patriot army in retreat. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



265 



halt of any consequence was made. Here again it seemed 
that the wide river, with its defensive possibilities, might 
serve to halt the pursuers. With this thought in mindv 
young Alexander Hamilton, already risen to the position 
of Captain of Artillery, was instructed to set up his field 
pieces so as to command the fordable portions of the stream. 

Had the expected 
reinforcements ar- 
rived from the 
north, ( which 
would have been 
the case had Gen- 
eral Lee been less 
dilatory ) it is not 
unlikely that 
Washington might 
have niaintained 
his position upon 
the 'safe side' of 
the Raritan a 1 1 
winter. Realizing, 
however, that he 
was handicapped 
by an undependable subordinate, and determined to risk 
no more disasters — particularly at a time when one false 
move would be fatal — the orders were given for another 
'about face'. After nightfall, on the first day of December, 
the army once more found itself in motion, this time headed 
for Princeton. 

During his stay in New Brunswick, or plain "Bruns- 
wick" as it used to be called, the Commander occupied a 
little cottage situated on the southwest corner of Albany 
and NeilsOn Streets, which landmark was ruthlessly sacri- 
ficed to make way for a modern business structure. Be- 
fore this old house, of which I have reproriuced an illustra- 
tion, Colonel Neilson. in July of that fateful year, had 




WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS AT NEW BRUN.SWICK, 
the site of which is now occupied by the offices of the 
Public Service Electric Company. Albany and Neilson 
Streets. Courtesy of John P. Wall. 



266 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

mounted a table and read to the patriots of the town (among 
whom he was a leading spirit) the newly promulgated 
Declaration of Independence. After but five months of 
hostilities, the villagers found that the reality of the con- 
test was brought home to their very doors, for, with the 
withdrawal of Washington's soldiers, the British took pos- 
session of the town and there remained for several months. 
New Brunswick had, quite likely, been selected in ad- 
vance as a British base of operations in central Jersey. 
Modern historians who have had access to the 18th century 
documents on file in the archives of the British War Office 
at London have called attention to the fact (rather inter- 
esting at this time) that Lord Howe was not expected to 
capture the retreating army of Washington — which was 
considered to be already beaten — but merely to force it out 
of the way.* After this, Howe was instructed to settle 
down at New Brunswick and endeavor to impress upon the 
Jerseymen the fact that, as their cause was lost, the logical 
procedure for them to follow would be to come back into 
the fold and renew their severed allegiance to the mother 
country. These restrictions may or may not account for the 
leisurely stride into which the British pursuit lapsed after 
the crossing of the Hackensack, for it is apparent that it lay 
within the power of Howe to have brought on a general 
engagement on more than one occasion, yet he strangely 
forebore, and contented himself with hanging on the heels 
of the retiring patriots. 

In accord with this supposed prearrangement, Howe 
installed himself at 'Brunswick' for a lengthy residence, 
confiscating the old Neilson house on Burnett Street, near 
Hiram; while De Heister — with characteristic Hessian 
arrogance — squatted down in similar fashion, selecting the 



* Some readers may be inclined to regard these 'revelations' as British propa- 
ganda, coming at a time when the good will of the American people is much sought 
by the heads of the British government. It is certain that the King's ministers 
were, at that period, inclined to proceed with caution, but it was merely to serve 
their own ends. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



267 



second best dwelling in the village. 

Situated on the navigable Raritan River, with open 
communication to New York by water, New Brunswick 
was well adapted to the purposes of the British general, 
who, it must be confessed, preferred a cozy fireside to an 

active campaign. 
Upon Cornwallis 
devolved the duty 
of continuing the 
pursuit of Wash- 
ington to the Dela- 
ware, and here the 
British campaign 
would probably 
liave ended had 
n o t Washington 
moved against 
Trenton, with re- 
sults so disastrous 
to his over-confi- 
dent pursuers. 

The "Neilson 
house" was pulled 
down a few years ago, and the illustration herewith pre- 
sented is perhaps the last picture to be made of this old 
brick dwelling, before which stood another of those im- 
mense, bark-denuded 'button-wood' trees, so often associated 
with historic localities throughout New Jersey. 

For six months New Brunswick was infested with the 
unwelcome soldiery of the invaders, who undoubtedly made 
things very miserable for the inhabitants, especially after 
the reverses at Trenton and Princeton, which curdled the 
milk of British 'benevolence', and the establishing of an 
American counter-base at Morristown from whence came 
active parties of patriot scouts, the further to rile the urban- 
ity of General Howe's provisional government. During the 




"THE LAST SNAP SHOT" 

Lord Howe's headquarters at New Brunswick in 

progress of demolition. 1912. 



268 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 



latter months of British occupancy, after the tables had 
been somewhat reversed by the successes of Washington's 
men, it became exceedingly hazardous for the foraging 
parties to scour the country, hence they were compelled to 
draw supplies from New York Gity to augment the already 
depleted stores of the townsfolk. 

On the 2nd of December, Washington passed through 
Princeton. Here he left a third portion of his forces to 
cover the country and 
himself pushed on to 
Trenton on the Dela- 
ware, meanwhile keep- 
ing close watch upon 
Cornwallis, who had 
somewhat leisurely re- 
newed the pursuit and 
seemed likely to cause 
further annoyance. 

A few days at 
Trenton, interrupted 
by a hasty journey back 
to Princeton, convinced 
the Commander that 
he had better seek 
refuge in Pennsylvania. 
Having already trans- 
ported most of his 
stores across the Dela- 
ware, he himself passed over, with the rear guard, on the 
morning of the 8th. Cornwallis, entering Trenton a few 
hours later, found himself once again denied the pleasure of 
a meeting with Washington, the wide river which separ- 
ated him from the Americans being, for the time, as impass- 
able as the Atlantic Ocean, as anything and everything in 
the nature of a boat had been secured upon the west bank. 




NEW JERSEYS MOST HISTORIC DOCUMENT 
(Grant to Berkeley and Carteret, by James, 
Dukti of York. 1664.) 

While ^onle\vhat foreign to our narrative, this 
old grant to New Jersey's first colonial proprie- 
tors, — which IS in fine condition, (having escaped 
tho vicissitudes of the Revolution) and is to-day 
treasured at the museum of the N. ,J. Historical 
Society, Newark, — is worthy of reproduction. It 
vi'ill be of interest to students of New Jersey history. 



THE FIGHTING RETREAT 269 

The disgruntled nobleman contented himself therefore, with 
posting detachments of Germans at Bordentown, Burling- 
ton and Trenton, and resignedly hied himself back to New 
Brunswick. As for Washington, he was enjoying good old 
Irish hospitality at the Bucks County home of Thomas 
Barclay,* one of the leading spirits among the "Society of 
the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick," (organized in Philadel- 
pliia, 1771), a staunch patriot and an ardent Whig. Here 
he remained until December 14th. 

The same day upon which Washington made his cross- 
ing of the Delaware, General Charles Lee, with the stragg- 
ling 'Army of the North', with which he had failed to accom- 
plish anything of note — notwithstanding his yearning for 
individual glory — came into Chatham, reaching Morris- 
town two days afterward. A month had elapsed since he 
had said farewell to Washington at North Castle near the 
Hudson. Instead of heeding the repeated appeals of the 
Commander-in-Chief to consolidate his division with the 
main army. General Lee appears to have spent the greater 
portion of the time in correspondence with influential men 
throughout the colonies, making capital of Washington's 
reverses in an endeavor to advance his own ambitious plans. 

The 13th of December was an unfortunate date for 
discontented 'Charlie'. As he loitered at a tavern in Bask- 
ing Ridge, some distance from his command, he was sur- 
rounded and captured by a maurauding party of British 
dragoons, who hurried him away in ignominious haste, half- 
dressed as he was, and bare-headed. Three hours later he 
arrived at New Brunswick, a sorry looking object, shivering 
by reason of the wintry winds which played about his bony 
shins, and too disgusted, perhaps, to heed the storm of hoots 
and howls which his ludicrous plight elicited from the 
Tories. Some historians, influenced in their opinion by sub- 
sequent events in the career of General Lee, have intimated 



* This historic homestead is still standing at Morrisville, Pa., opposite Trenton. 
In 1791, the premises, known as "Summer Seat", passed into the hands of Robert 
Morris, the Financier of the Revolution. The house is about half a mile from the 
Delaware. 



270 THE FIGHTING RETREAT 

that this 'accidental capture' was arranged by Lee. This is 
unreasonable, because Lee still entertained hopes of super- 
seding Washington, and he was far too dignified to arrange 
any such hilarious scene (with himself the leading come- 
dian) even had he meditated a personal surrender. It was 
simply an apt illustration of the scriptural axiom: "pride 
goeth before a fall, and an haughty spirit before destruc- 
ton." 

Nevertheless the capture of Lee was a blessing in dis- 
guise for the American cause. It was well for Washington 
that his rival was temporarily off the scene, for General 
Sullivan, the officer now in command of the derelict 'lost 
tribes' of the army, made haste to effect a junction with his 
superior. Beside this numerous reinforcement, Washington 
was further strengthened, ere long, by the arrival of Gen- 
eral Gates with four regiments from the far-northern army 
of Schuyler. This little expedition had traveled from the 
Hudson, passing through the wilds of upper Jersey, (a 
region sparsely settled even to-day) and reaching the Dela- 
ware River through the Indian-haunted valley of the 
Minisink, 



TRENTDN 

- AND - 

PRINCETON 



McConkey's Tavern, Washington's Crossing. N. J. 

(Here JJiVashington tarried for refreshment before 

the Battle of Trenton.) 







^^HE perilous crossing of an ice-choked river, the sur- 
^^ prise attack upon a loosely-guarded position, the 
swiftly changing kaleidoscope of sly maneuver and 
spirited combat — culminating in the discomfiture of the 
British at Ptinceton and the complete upsetting of their 
six months careful planning — these incidents go to make up 
the best known chapter in American history. 

Were it our purpose merely to recount the story of these 
happenings, we should be but re-hashing a familiar. chron- 
icle. But, treated from the view-point of the present day, 
rather than that of 1776, we have legitimate cause for dwell- 
ing at some length upon this series of all-important events, 
which, from beginning to end, were entirely compassed 
within a ten day period of activity. 

From his temporary quarters on the Pennsylvania side 
of the Delaware, Washington observed the movements of his 
pursuers for almost a week before he determined upon his 
plan of action. Count Dunop had secured Bordentown and 



272 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



Burlington in Jersey, and it appeared almost certain that 
the British high command, believing the American army to 
be well-nigh impotent, meditated a move upon Philadelphia, 
where they believed — and not without reason — there was a 
strong Tory element to hamper any efforts of the American 
commander to save the city for the patriot cause. 

On the 14th of December, Washington moved to the 
farm-house of William Keith, near the upper fords of the 
Delaware, on the 
road from Browns- 
burg to the Eagle 
Tavern. Although 
some miles above 
Trenton, he was 
still within an 
hour's ride of his 
depot of supplies 
at Newtown. The 
hamlet of Taylor- 
ville now occupies 
the site of Wash- 
ington's " C a m p 
above Trenton 
Falls" where h e 
perfected his plan 
of a triple crossing of the river, with simultaneous attacks 
upon the enemy's posts at Bordentown and Trenton, and 
from which place he himself effected his famous passage of 
the river on Christmas night, although the efforts of the 
other detachments failed of achieving a similar success. 

Some eight miles above Trenton, on the New Jersey 
side of the Delaware, there is a little railway station desig- 
nated as "Washington's Crossing." Not far distant is a 
memorial stone, not unlike those set up by the Israelites to 
commemorate the crossing of Jordan in the distant past. 
Originally a rough-hewn block of granite, it has lately been 




OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. TAYLORVILLE, PENNA. 

In the vicinity of Washington's place of encampment just 

prior to his famous 'crossing of the Delaware,' 1776 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



273 



treated to a coat of whitewash by some well-meaning but 
inartistic villager, possibly with the intent of making it more 
conspicuous. On the Pennsylvania shore at Taylorville 
there is another marker, still more commonplace, erected by 
the Bucks County Historical Society in 1905. 

So familiar is everyone with Emanuel Leutze's historic 
painting "Washington Crossing the Delaware" that it needs 
no reproduction. The 
original, a massive 
canvas twelve b y 
twenty-one feet in 
size, now hangs in a 
place of honor at the 
Metropolitan Mu- 
seum of Art, New 
York City. Quite 
recently the public 
has been somewhat 
taken back by au- 
thoritative informa- 
tion to the effect that the setting of this meritorious work 
was staged in Germany, that the principal figures in the 
noble group were sketched from German models, and that 
the turgid, ice-swollen river is not in reality the Delaware 
but the Rhine, at a point not far distant from the home of 
the artist ! A further criticism is made by reason of the fact 
that the flag has a starry union, whereas in 1776 the patriots 
still clung to the crossed "jack" of Great Britain coupled with 
the thirteen colonial stripes. This latter is a sure-enough 
error, but what in the world is altogether faultless? The 
great picture, whatever its origin or the nationality of its 
creator, will forever remain dear to the hearts of Americans, 
who — as boys and girls — beheld with admiration its heroes, 
and heard with eager hearts its thrilling story. 

I cannot ascribe due credit for the following bit of con- 
temporary description, which I copy from a torn page 




Xew Jersey Commemorative Stone, 
'Washington's Crossing' 



274 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



handed me some years ago and subsequently fished out from 
a dusty pigeon-hole of my desk. It was evidently written 
by one who participated in the attack upon Trenton and is, 
presumably, from the diary of an officer. I like its brevity 
and forceful style : 

"It is fearfully cold and raw and a snow-storm is setting in. The wind is 

northeast and beats in the faces of the men. It will be a tcrribl- night for the nun who 
have no shoes. Some of them have titd old rags around their feet, others are bare- 
foot; but I have not heard a man complain. They are ready to suffer any hardship 
and die rather than give up their libtrty. I have just copied the order for march- 
ing. Both divisions are to go from the Perry to Bear Tavern, two miles. They 
will separate there. Washington will accompany Greene's division with a part of 
the artillery down the Pennington road; Sullivan and the rest of the artillery will 
take the river road. 

"Dee. 26, 3 a.m. — The troops are all over and the boats have gone back for 
the artillery. We are three hours behind the set time. Glover's men had a hard 
time to force the boats through the floating ice with the snow drifting in their faces. 
I never have seen Washington so determined as he is now. He stands on the bank 
of the river wrapped in his cloak, superintending the landing of his troops. He is 
calm and collected, but very determined. The ftorm is changing to sleet and cuts 
like a knife. The last cannon is being landed and we arc ready to mount our horses. 

"Dec. 26, Noon. — It was nearly 4 o'clock when we started. The two divisions 
divided at Bear Tavern. At Birmingham, three miles and a half south of the 
tavern, a man came with a message from General Sullivan that the storm was wet- 
ting their muskets and rendering them unfit for service. 'Tell General Sullivan,' 
said Washington, 'to use the bayonet. I am resolved to take Trenton.' It was 

broad daylight as we neared the out.'kirts of the town" 

•(Then follows a description of the Battle of Trenton.) 

Near the marker 
on the Jersey 
Shore stands the 
ancient McConkey 
homestead. Form- 
erly the locality 
was known as Mc- 
Conkey 's Ferry, 
and down by the 
river's edge — just 
about where is now 
the cottage of the 
bridge toll-collector 
— stood the little 
'ferry-house' 
where on that 
eventful Christmas 
night, some of the 
Continental officers 
storm. Washington 




WHERE WASHINGTON CROSSED THE DELAWARE 
Amid the glories of summer a far different scene from 
that of a wild, mid-winter night. One account tells us that 
the General, seated upon an abandoned bee-hive, superintend- 
ing the embarkation, himself crossing in one of the last boats. 
The insert is a more artistic conception. 

found brief shelter from the howling 
himself, before getting under way for 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



275 



the long inarch, partook of some hght refreshments at the 
McConkey house, but the statement that he passed the 
night here is erroneous. J'or him it was no time for sleep ; 
the Hessians, he hoped, were doing enough of that to justify 
his own wakefuhiess. 




"WASHINGTON'S CROSSING,'- N. J. 

Toll Bridge over the Delaware at the point where stood 

MoConkey's Ferry House in 1776. 

As the authority whom we have quoted has recorded, 
the expedition was somewhat belated, yet they reached 
Trenton at an hour sufficiently early to rudely disturb the 
^post-jubiletic' repose of the enemy. 

The Trenton battle monument, a tall column erected 
in 1893 at the junction of modern Warren and Greene 
Streets,— upon the exact spot where Captain Alexander 
Hamilton opened his battery of New York artillery on the 
Hessian foe after their pickets had been driven in, — is by far 
the most miposing shaft in New Jersey. It w^as built at an 



276 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 




approximate cost of one hundred thousand dollars. It is 
surmounted by an heroic figure of Washington, decorated 
with four bronze tablets in low relief, and beside the entrance 
door are two very life-like statues in bronze; that at the 
right, as you enter, representing a trooper of the 'Philadel- 
phia Light Horse', while its companion depicts one of the 
men of Glover's famous Massachusetts regiment. Both 
were presented by citizens of the states repre- 
sented, and are faithful character types, wear- 
ing the correct uniforms and carrying the 
weapons of the Revolutionary period. 

Within the vestibule of the tower are a 
number of noteworthy souvenirs, chief among 
which is a large section of the wooden frame- 
work of the Victory arch' erected over the 
bridge at the Assunpink Creek when, in 1787, 
Washington passed through Trenton on his 
way to inauguration at New York. An ele- 
vator ascends to the top of the monument, 
from which, at the height of 150 feet, a won- 
derful view of Trenton and the surrounding 
country may be obtained. 

Down Warren Street (formerly King 
Street) rises the spire of St. Mary's Cathedral, 
occupying the site of Col. Rahl's headquar- 
ters. The Hes- 
sian commander, 
caught napping 
after a Yuletide 
feast of good things, 
put up the bravest 
kind of a fight ; but 
all his efforts to stay 
the vigor of the 
American attack 

THE TRENTON BATTLE MONUMENT Were wlthoUt aVail. 

The spire of St. Mary's Church seen in the dis- 
tance, adjoins the site of Col. Rahl's headqiiartcrs. 
Down this ancient thoroughfare, then known as 
'King Street,' the battle raged. 





TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



277 



Mortally wounded while dashing about among his men, he 
died upon the following day, while it remained for his 
second in command to capitulate to the victors. Near the 




THE AMERICAN ARMY APPROACHING TRENTON 

cathedral, — whose rectory is built upon the site of the dwell- 
ing where Rahl died — there yet remain a few houses which 
witnessed the running fight through Trenton's streets. Four 
of Trenton's old churches served as Hessian barracks, while 
in the graveyard of the Presbyterian congregation on State 
street, the unfortunate colonel was buried in some obscure 
spot which has never been identified. 

Trenton is rather compactly built, and the visitor will 
find all of the historic localities grouped within the radius 
of a mile, the Battle Monument being farthest distant from 
the railway station. Generally speaking, the battle began 
where the monument now stands, and the Hessians 
grounded their arms not so very far from the present site 
of the train-sheds; the heart of the business district of the 
present city representing the centre of the ancient village, 
lying midway between. 

In some respects, the object of greatest interest in Tren- 
ton is the New Jersey State Capitol, on the banks of the 



278 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



Delaware, but it is a comparatively modern building and 
has no eventful background to tempt the historian of Revo- 
lutionary days. But there is, not far distant, an old build- 
ing of an entirely different character which well repays in- 
spection. It is one of the oldest in Trenton, yet one of the 
best preserved, having been 
erected purposely for a military 
barracks during the days of the 
French War. For a similar pur- 
pose it was utilized by the Hes- 
sian invaders in 1776, and it 
subsequently sheltered troops of 
both factions as they, from time 
to time occupied the city. Dr. 
Lossing, in his "Pictorial Field 
Book of the Revolution," refers 
to it as "White Hall" This in- 
teresting structure, situated at 
the foot of Front Street, is now 
in the possession of the Daugh- 
ters of the American Revolution. 
At the time my picture was 
taken it was an 'L' shaped af- 
fair, but it has since been enlarged into a *U' ; blocking the 
end of the thoroughfare. This is said to have been its 
original shape, and the restored 'annex' has been built in 
such strict conformity with the surviving half of the 18th 
century edifice, that one uninformed would scarcely know 
'which was which'. A photographic print of this two- 
volume building offers an artistic opportunity for the water- 
eolorist. The light-grey stone, the deep green of the ivy, 
the snow-white of the windows and casings, set off by the 
bright yellow of the flowering-shrubs, which adorn the gar- 
den in early summer, combine most pleasingly and with 
true harmony. 

Such portions of the Hessian force as were able to 




ST. MAJJY'S CATHEDRAL, TRENTON 
Site of Rahl's Headquarters 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



279 



escape from the confusion and defeat of the engagement 
at Trenton made their exit at the southern extremity of 
the town, hastening down toward Bordentown along the 
banks of the Delaware. This outlet would have been closed 
to them had Gen. Cadwalader been able to execute his part 
of the offensive program. As it was, the arrival of the fugi- 
tives at Count Dunop's headquarters caused that officer to 
vacate Bordentown with considerable haste, and to set his 
detachments once again in motion toward Brunswick. 

Much more prominence has been given Trenton in the 
conventional recital 
of the events of this 
campaign than has 
been accorded to 
these towns lower 
down the river, both 
of which were, in 
1776, fully as im- 
portant as Trenton, 
if not more so. We 
have spoken else- 
where of Burling- 
ton as the former 
provincial capital, 
but a few words re- 
garding its Revolu- 
tionary history and 
present-day attrac- 
tiveness will certain- 
ly not be amiss. 

Archaic Burlington, with its quaint houses, red brick 
sidewalks and abandoned wharf and Custom House, is one 
of the most unique villages in the state of Jersey. Notwith- 
standing the fact that the trains of the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road pass through its principal street with the nonchalance 
of trolley-cars, the ancient town seems more nearly like a 




THE OLD BARRACKS— FRONT STREET. TRENTON 



280 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



community of Revolutionary times than any other centre of 
population in this region. Isaac Collins, the Benjamin 
t ranklin of New Jersey, whose newspaper was — throughout 
the war for independence — the leading vehicle of informa- 
tion for the Whigs of the province, will forever be Burling- 
ton's traditional hero, and his residence will be pointed out 
with pride. In the 
hallowed burial 
ground of St. 
Mary's Church lie 
two of Washing- 
ton's trusted 
friends: the Hon- 
orable William 
Bradford, Attorney 
General of the 
United States dur- 
ing the first presi- 
dency, and Dr. 
E 1 i a s Boudinot, 
first head of the 
American Bible 
Society. Captain 
James Lavvrence of 
''don't give up the 
ship" fame, and James Fenimore Cooper, the "Sir Walter 
Scott of American literature" were both born in Burlington. 
Side by side, their birthplaces confer the diffused light of 
distinction to unostentatious Burlington, although the naval 
hero is buried in New York City and the novelist in a vil- 
lage which bears his name in the centre of the 'Empire 
State.' 

Had Washington surprised the Hessians at Burlington 
instead of at Trenton, the name of the former town would 
have been written in larger letters on the pages of American 
history, I suppose. Chance happenings, in the lives of 




RESIDENCE OF ISAAC COLLINS, BURLINGTON, N. J. 

In the wa Is of which then is said to be ( mbedded a 
cannon ball who^e tiring was co-incident with the Hesi-ian 
occupancN of 1776. 

Isaac Co lins was one of tlic most active Wliigs of 
South Jersey. He was the printer of the N. J. Gazette, 
and much of tlie Colonial paper currency of the province. 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



281 



places as well as persons, have a great deal to do with this 
elusive thing we call fame. 

The tangible results of the victory at Trenton were 
very considerable. Over a thousand prisoners and a propor- 
tionate amount of booty fell to the American army at a cost 
of less than thirty men, killed, wounded or frozen on the 
march. The moral effects of the opportune success were 
even greater. The faith of the feeble-kneed was strength- 
ened. A powerful revulsion of feeling came over the coun- 
try; the patriots of New Jersey again gathered courage, 
enthusiasm once more filled the breasts of the stern New 
Englanders, while staid Philadelphia (minus the Tory fac- 
tion) howled with pleasure at the sight of the captive hire- 
lings of the "most gracious monarch" as they were paraded 
through the streets en route to their detention camps in 
Pennsylvania. 

Having accomplished his set purpose of 'bagging' the 
foreign occupants of Trenton, Washington — apprehensive of 
the approaching army of Earl Cornwallis — thought it pru- 
dent to return to the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware as 
speedily as possible. It is generally believed that the pas- 




OLD HESSIAN BARRxVCKS AT CARLISLE, PA., 
Built and occupied by German prisoners captured at Trenton, and sent to 
Carlisle for safekeeping. 
(Photo by courtesy of Carlisle Chamber of Commerce.) 



282 TRENTON AND PRINCETON 

sage in this instance was made at Trenton proper, by means 
of Patrick Colvm's ferry, which would naturally have been 
much easier for the soldiers than a return to McConkey's, 
and it is logical to presume that the commander desired to 
subject them to no unnecessary tramping, especially under 
the notoriously ill-shod conditions then existing. Colvin 
himself must have been of material assistance in this oper- 
ation, and thereby have earned the high regard of Washing- 
ton, for we are told that, ten years later, he had entire charge 
of ferrying the 'presidential party' as they journeyed from 
Philadelphia to the seat of the newly organized federal gov- 
ernment at New York. 

After a two-day interval of rest, Washington — rein- 
forced by 1500 Pennsylvania militia — determined to trans- 
port the army once more into Jersey. This time there was 
no need of boats, for the river had frozen solid. The men 
were in excellent spirits, and, while the impulse of victory 
was in their blood, the commander intended to make good 
use of their fighting ability. Further solace was afforded by 
the opportune arrival of $50,000 in hard cash from Robert 
Morris, 'the banker of the Revolution,' which was effectual 
in postponing the home-going of some of the New England 
Regulars, and in reducing the arrearages in pay throughout 
the entire army. 

Meanwhile Cornwallis, aware that the Americans were 
gathering in force at Trenton, and burning to efface the 
stigma of defeat, moved down from Princeton with malicious 
intent, Washington, effecting a junction with the detach- 
ments of Mifflin and Cadwalader, who had been operating 
around Bordentown, took stand on the southerly side of 
Assunpink Creek. About four o'clock on the afternoon 
of January 2nd. the British columns hove in sight. Quite 
willingly would they have crossed the gulley, but — being 
frustrated in their several attempts by the galling fire of the 
Americans — they settled down for the night upon their own 
side, with his Lordship tolerably certain that at last he had 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



283 



driven the foxy Washington into a corner and 'had him 
where he wanted him.' 

But under the friendly mantle of darkness the Amer- 
ican commander was preparing to execute another of those 
silent withdrawals, the like of which had twice before saved 
him from ruin.* With camp fires piled high with faggots, so 
as to hood-wink the enemy sentinels and to render the move- 
ments of his own men invisible in the somber shadows be- 



E'.- 




THE ASSUM'INK (KKEK — TKEXTON, X. .). 

yond, he quietly stole away toward Princeton, circling the 
flanks of the British by a round-about detour. 

Few travelers, upon alighting from the train at the 
Trenton railway station, realize that they are within a few 
feet of a little stream whose banks are as historic as those of 
the Delaware. If, by chance, they have caught a fleeting 
glimpse of the Assunpink Creek between rows of standing 
freight cars, it has meant nothing, nor has it l:een given a 
second thought. No tablet or marker of any kind is at hand 
to tell how, beside the narrow brook, the two great com- 
manders, Washington and Cornwallis, were present in per- 
son on the evening of January 2nd, 1777, to direct their 
opposing forces for the struggle which seemed inevitable on 
the morrow; nor that, within a c|uarter-mile of the depot, 



* On the exterior of the modern Ijuilding at No. 191 South Broad Street, Tren- 
ton, there is a tablet stating that "here, in the house of AUxander Douglass, Wash- 
ington called a council of war on the evening of January 2nd, 1777, when the flank 
movement to Princeton was •decided apon," 



284 



TENTON AND PRINCETON 



the surrender of Rahl's Hessians Kad taken place but a week 
before. 

The creek, hemmed in by houses on the outskirts of the 
town, is spanned by but two bridges from which the tourist 
of inquiring mind may view its somewhat murky waters and 
unsightly banks, for it soon pkmges into darkness beneath 
the business section of the city, emerging to join the broad 




FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, STATE STREET, TRENTON, N. J. 
Somewhere, in its tiny graveyard, Colonel Rahl is buried. 

Delaware after its uncertain subterranean wanderings. 
Hence, if one failed to note the existence of the aforesaid 
creek before getting into the heart of the town, he might 
come and go — even thinking he was familiar with Trenton, 
—without suspecting its existence or its historic significance. 
Yet in no other way may the lover of history gain so intelli- 
gent an idea of the relative positions of the opposing forces 
during the fateful hours before Washington's departure, 
than by an appraisement of the unromantic Assunpink 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



285 




'MERCER BRIDGE' OVER STONY BROOK, NEAR PRINCETON, N. ,f. 
Cros? ed by the Main Road 

between the depot and the point where it loses itself beneath 
the 'built-over section' of New Jersey's capital. 

The follower of Washington's movements must now 
hasten to Princeton in order that he may keep pace with 
the rapid course of events. Straight as the railway runs, 
the passenger is impressed with the thooight that a consid- 
erable distance intervenes between Trenton and the college 
town. To me it seems that the soldiers made quick time. 
It is recorded that they were aided in great measure by the 
thick crust of ice which had formed upon the snow, for it 
was still bitterly cold, and it may be that by very reason of 
the zero temperature there was no inclination to linger along 
the way. 

To understand the Battle of Princeton, you must go 
over the ground in person. About three miles below the 
village winds Stony Brook, crossed to-day by two roads, 
which — nearly parallel — lead directly into the town. Ac- 
counts of the engagement vary greatly in detail, but in all 



286 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



of them reference is made to the historic bridges, and the 
'main road/ the present Trenton-Princeton turnpike, on 
either side of which the contest raged. 

The easiest way to describe the battle would be to say 
that "the advancing Americans met and defeated three 
British regiments which were en route from Princeton to 
join Cornwallis." But this laconic statement will not satis- 
fy, and we must go into detail even at the risk of being 
obscure. 




THE QUAKER MEETING HOUSE ON THE PRINCETON BATTLEFJEDD 
Courtesy of William H. Broadwell, Newark, N. J. 

Toward daybreak the Americans crossed the brook not 
far from the present railway by means of the 'Quaker Road' 
which, for some distance follows the stream. General Mer- 
cer, leading the vanguard, continued along its northerly bank 
until he arrived at the head of the turnpike bridge which 
now bears his name. He then became aware that, not a 
quarter of a mile away, two British regiments going toward 
Trenton had passed across the upper bridge, via the 'old 
road' — which, as we have said, runs nearly parallel with the 
present turnpike. Had it been summertime, when thick 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 287 

foliage obscures the landscape, it is possible that neither 
party would have caught sight of the other. As it was, the 
enemy soon discovered the presence of the Americans and 
Colonel Mawhood, in command, hurried back over the 
bridge, to intercept what he rightly judged to be but a small 
portion of the patriot force. We now find both the British 
and Mercer's men leaving their positions at a bridgehead to 
engage in mortal combat upon a bit of rising ground mid- 
way between, — half a mile to the north toward Princeton. 
The troops of Mercer were the first to get into position and 
deliver a volley, but Mawhood deployed his grenadiers to 
advantage and returned the compliment with vigor. 

The tired Americans were unfit and unequal to an 
encounter with the finest troops of the British army and 
soon gave way. Their assailants, pressing forward, spared 
not to use the bayonet, and soon the patriots were in full 
flight. Mercer, whose dapple-grey mount had fallen early 
in the fight, was repeatedly wounded while resisting cap- 
ture and was left for dead upon the field. 

Washington, who had — with the main army — headed 
direct for Princeton, now arrived on the scene with rein- 
forcements. Immediately taking in the critical situation, 
he waved encouragement to the panic-stricken ones who 
were on the verge of rout and unhesitktingly rode forward 
to a point directly between the advancing enemy and his 
own followers. This is the celebrated incident so often illus- 
trated in our books of history — "Washington at the Battle 
of Princeton." It is surprising that he was not shot down 
on the instant, for scarce sixty yards separated the com- 
batants. Seated on his white charger, he must have pre- 
sented a picture ^ruly inspiring. I conjecture that he was 
readily recognized by many among the foemen, but that — 
for a moment — both friend and foe were dumbfounded at 
his seeming bravado. Colonel Fitzgerald, one of his aides, 
confesses that he expected to see him fall momentarily. 

Is it possible that something more than chance saved 



288 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



his life? Did he coolly calculate at that crucial moment on 
the power of personality? Did he realize that few men 
would de-iberately shoot down a commanding general? Or 
did he consider the emergency so great as to warrant the 




THE 'UPPf^K BRIDGE' OVER STONY BROOK, PRIx\CETON BATTLEFIELD 

Courtesy of William H. Broadwell, Newark, N. J. 

sacrifice of his life if need be? These things we shall never 
know, l^sually prudent in the extreme, the conduct of 
Washington on this occasion shows him throwing prudence 
to the winds. He considered, in all probability, that defeat 
here would mean ultimate annihilation. Cornwallis was 
now" coming up from Trenton, and between two fires a de- 
feated army would have small chance of survival. Surely, 
after a study of the events of this day, none can accuse 
Washington of personal cowardice. It is unnecessary to 
add that his example stimulated the Americans to do their 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 289 

utmost, with the result that the enemy were shortly driven 
from the field. 

The ancient stone bridges spanning Stony Brook are 
similar in many respects, both being substantial structures 
of masonry with triple arches. So perfectly do they adapt 
themselves to the historic stream, that it seems a pity to dis- 
illusion ourselves and state the truth, to wit, that they were 
erected after the battle of Princeton, to replace those demol- 
ished by the Americans to retard the progress of Cornwallis. 
It is recorded that the irate nobleman, on his 'hot-foot' 
march from Trenton, arrived in time to see the patriot 
wreckers completing their work of destruction. To-day the 
"Mercer Bridge," which carries the principal highway, is 
more frequently used than its westerly neighbor; but beside 
the upper span, where Mawhood's troops crossed the brook, 
are the remains of Worth's Mills, a sure-enough Revolu- 
tionary structure. 

A small pyramid of cannon shot in the fields not far 
from the new road guides the visitor to the place of Mer- 
cer's martyrdom. The little "Clark House" — where the 
General breathed his last — is also near at hand and readily 
accessible. This old farm-house, as well as a tiny Quaker 
meeting-house beside which Washington formed his troops, 
is quite near the Mercer Bridge. The little house of wor- 
ship is at the most southerly point of the battle-field. Poor 
Mercer was found in the snow, unconscious but still alive, 
and was tenderly carried to Clark's by his fellow-officers. 
Here he lingered until the 12th of January, carefully nursed 
by the kindly women of the household and courteously 
attended by the staff-surgeon of Cornwallis, when that emi- 
nent general arrived on the scene in the course of his pur- 
suit. Moreover, Cornwallis willingly permitted the presence 
and aid of one of Washington's doctors at the bedside. Lit- 
tle acts of kindness, such as this, have caused Cornwallis 
to be respected by Americans. His service in the cause of 
his king was, while faithfully performed, uniformly free 



290 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 




from malice. He never forgot to be a gentleman. That 
Washington realized this, is evident from the treatment 
accorded him when the victory at Yorktown made him a 
prisoner, in the hands of those whom he had fought so 
well. 

No officer of the 
American army 
was more sincere- 
ly mourned, nor 
has been more 
widely honored 
than Hugh Mer- 
cer. Streets, cit- 
ies and counties 
all over the coun- 

trV now bear his where mercer fell, Princeton Battlefield 

name; his remains lie at Philadelphia in a worthy sepul- 
chre, and very recently — in his old home town of Fredericks- 
burg, Va., — a splendid and spirited monument has been 
erected to his memory. 

The entire Princeton battle-field is still a region of 
open farm-land, free from the sacrilegious encroachments 
of modern dwellings; and many a visitor to the famous 
college will find rare pleasure in walking amid the sweet 
scented fields of clover where history was made, or drawing 
near the snug little cottage, in a pretty grove of cedars, 
where a monument, a cannon and the stars and stripes, 
perpetuate the memory of one of the most illustrious of 
Virginia's sons, and remind the passer-by that we are what 
we are because of the heroism of our forefathers! 

Three British regiments figure in the Battle of Prince- 
ton. The 55th and 17th were engaged with Mercer and 
suffered most when Washington, arriving opportunely, 
turned the tide. Finding themselves considerably out- 
numbered, and being subject to severe reprisal for their 
own savagery, they drew out of the melee and scattered 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



291 



to the four points of the compass, some making south, 
others retreating with all speed to their base at New Bruns- 
wick, while still others made for Princeton town to join a 
portion of the 40th regiment which had barricaded them- 
selves in "Nassau Hall," the one building then possessed 
by the college of New Jersey. The battle, however, had 
been fought and won, and the resistance of the fugitives 
who had thought to defend themselves in the halls of learn- 




GENERAL HUGH MERCER AND THE HOUSE IN WiflCH HE DIED 
Princeton Battlefield 

ing was short-lived. The patriot cannon were unlimbered 
in the campus and a few convincing volleys brought them 
to terms. 

Washington was now completely master of the situ- 
ation. Had he followed his own inclinations he would have 
pushed on to New Brunswick without a moment's delay, 
in which event he would probably have captured a wealth 
of materials and munitions belonging to His Sovereign 
Majesty. He did indeed join his little force of cavalry 



192 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



and gallop with them as far as Kingston. But here pru- 
dence once again called a halt, and for the sake of his men, 
cold, tired and hungry — he decided to abandon a further 
offensive. Rejoining the infantry at Princeton he turned 
their faces toward the hills and by nightfall all were in 




Another view of the cottage where Mercer died, — Princeton Battlefield 

(Courtesy of Wm. H. Broadwell, Newark, N. J.) 

safety at Millstone. Then, by easy stages, after a two-days' 
halt at Pluckemin, they headed for Morristown, at which 
place it had been decided to winter. 

Most visitors to the University of Princeton approach 
the college town by the "shuttle" which runs from the 
junction on the line of the Pennsylvania Railroad to the 
very doors of the dormitories. The auto-road from Tren- 
ton is much more interesting, traversing as it does the 
length of the Revolutionary battlefield south of the village 
proper. Along the latter route there are many fine resi- 
dences. Midway between the battlefield and the town 
there is a wayside-well, to which attention is called by a 
genteel little sign bearing the legend "Washington's Spring," 
giving one the impression that the General might possibly 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



293 



have paused for a moment to quench his thirst as he hurried 
toward Princeton with his soldiers. 

To the tramper who is enjoying a summer day's outing, 
the ivy-covered well-curb appears most attractive, and he 
is nothing loath to drink long and deeply. If Washington 
availed himcelf of a similar privilege, however, it was cer- 
tainly not upon that bleak January day when he hurried 
by in pursuit of 
the British. With 
a blanket of snow 
covering all the 
landscape and a 
crust of ice 
around the edges 
of the crystal 
pool, it is more 
than likely that 
he deferred h i s 
libation until a 
more invigorat- 
ing d r a m was 
forthcoming a t 
the Princeton 
Tavern. Yet, as 
the Commander had frequent occasion to proceed along 
this highway in later years, I doubt not that the spring is 
entitled to the distinction claimed for it. 

In Washington's time, "The College of New Jersey," 
now known the world over as Princeton University, was 
housed in the one building which is the venerated "Nassau 
Hall" of to-day. There are now more college edifices under 
the management of the university trustees than there were 
houses in the ancient village of 1776. Legacies and endow- 
ments have enriched the university in worldly goods, and 
enabled it, as New Jersey's greatest educational center, to 
keep pace with Harvard, Yale or Syracuse. Yet "Old Nas- 




•'WASHINGTON'S SPRING" 
On the Princeton-Trenton Turnpike, the road along which 
passed the American army, January 3rd, 1777. 



294 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



sau" is Princeton's most precious asset, its visible legacy of 
history. What old "Massachusetts Hall" is to Harvard, 
that is "Old Nassau" to Princeton. It was erected in 1757, 
and derived its name from the fact that William III of Eng- 
land was a scion of the royal House of Nassau. Just prior 
to the battle of Princeton the building had been utilized as 
a barracks by the British, who added insult to injury by 
stabling their horses in the basement. A fire in 1802 com- 
pletely gutted the structure, but the walls remained intact. 




'REVOLUTIONARY PILGRIMS' AT PRINCETON 

Athletic events draw enormous crowds to Princeton. Of the thousands 

of visitors there are always a few hands-full, or 'autos-fuU' 

who avail themselves of the opportunity to visit the battlefield. 

To my mind, the most striking thing about Nassau 
Hall is its mantle of green. Each succeeding class which 
has graduated from these classic halls has planted, without, 
a tiny sprig of glossy ivy, with a small identifying tablet. 
Thus we see, along the base of the wall "Ivy — Class of 
1847," of "1865", etc, and, with the passing years, the 
interwoven vines have twined all over the ancient brick- 
work, covering the time-stained walls, as it were, with a 
mantle of affection, for thus is "Old Nassau" regarded by 
all Princeton men. 

While at Princeton we shall do well to make a hurried 
visit, time permitting, to the village burial ground, for here 
repose a number of men whose names will be forever 
associated with the history of our country. Princeton town 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



295 



has literally grown up around the university ; even the quiet 
graveyard is part and parcel of the college, for here many 
of its illustrious presidents and teachers rest from their 
labors. Good old Dr. Witherspoon, sixth president of 
Princeton, one of Jersey's five signers of the Declaration — 
and, incidentally, the only clergyman to affix his name to 
the great document of independence — here sleeps the sleep 
of the just. His tomb 
will be found in the 
'President's row' near 
that of Dr. Aaron 
Burr, another of the 
distinguished heads 
of the university. 
Aaron Burr the 
younger, he of hon- 
estly won fame and 
equally merited in- 
famy, lies close by 
his father. The flag 
placed upon his 
grave testifies to his 
bravery in the cause 
o f American free- 
dom ; his faults 
should, perhaps, have 
been buried with 

him. "OLD NASSAU HALL". PRINCETON UNIVERSITY 

Aged and well-beloved. 
A i>-irkro rooonfl-«7- Within these walls the defeated British troops 

^ lUUiti ICLeilUy nja^g their last stand, Jan. 3, 1777. 

erected monument is that of Grover Cleveland, twice presi- 
dent of the United States, who was born and who died a 
Jersey man. 

I rather admire the sturdy character of the old sports- 
man of Buzzard Bay, and a visit to his grave was to me 
something of a privilege. Death, wretched thing that it 
is, surely opens the door to intimacy. A few short years 
ago, the name of Cleveland was on every tongue; as our 




296 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



Chief Executive, his busy moments were weighted with a 
nation's problems, so that even a brief interview could 
have been granted only at a sacrifice of precious time. 
Now, without fear of trespassing or of a rival claimant for 
the honor. I may spend an entire day in his company, if 
so it suit my fancy. Possibly it is for similar reasons 
that those who worship 
the great and the near- 
great have a predilection 
for wandering about 
Westminster and the 
Pantheon. 

It may be that grave- 
yard rambles are un- 
healthy, in that they 
tend to melancholy. But 
of this you need have no 
fear in Princeton, for in 
a college town you can- 
not be gloomy, try as you 
will. The atmosphere of 
endeavor and ambition is 
too powerful an a n t i- 
dote. Scarcely have you 
closed the cemeter\^ gate 
than V o u encounter 

. , ' THE GRAVE OF PRESIDENT CLEVELAND 

juniors who are the Princeton. N. J. 

incarnation of youthful deviltr3% or affected-looking 'fresh- 
men' who deport themselves as though conscious that their 
inspired souls were fashioned in the versimilitude of genius. 
So invigorating is the spirit of a university village that I 
wish, in all sincerity, that every 'old fossil' among my learned 
but case-hardened friends might make an annual pilgrim- 
age to Princeton, there to shake off his mantle of cynicism, 
the sack-cloth of the soul. 

On the other hand, there is something about a college 




TRENTON AND PRINCETON 297 

town which catches hold of the visitor, and, if he himself 
is not 'college bred,' fills him with a sense of regret be- 
cause of the fact that he has missed certain opportunities 
vouchsafed to others. It is, I suppose, a realizaion of one's 
deficiencies in the matter of education, which cannot be 
otherwise than helpful if — profiting thereby — the individual 
begins a painstaking course of self-education. There are 
those who scoff at the logic of the phrase: "a self-made 
man," but honest effort can accomplish modern miracles, 
and no one under high heaven can keep down a man 
deterrnined to raise himself. I need only cite the examples 
of Franklin and Washington, by the last magic word bring- 
ing myself back again to the subject from which I have, 
once more, inadvertently, wandered. That Washington 
was self-taught in everything from military tactics to 
statesmanship is so well known that the facts need no 
amplification. It is further apparent that among the annals 
of the world's foremost men, the story of education — 
thrust upon them or painstakingly acquired — runs 'nip and 
tuck,' and, where final results are concerned, shows a few 
points in favor of the man who in youth was denied educa- 
tional advantages. Furthermore, regarding university 
tiaining, I am convinced that the student who 'works his 
way' usually places a higher value upon his opportunities 
than the fellow who has no financial worries. Happily, 
Princeton is open to those of small means, and provides 
opportunities to aid the struggling student. 

On the evening of the second of November, 1916, I 
sat by a window in one of the old dormitoiy buildings at 
Princeton, a structure well nigh as ancient as Nassau Hall. 
My host was a student from far-off Texas, a big, good- 
natured son of the Southwest, hardened by a boyhood spent 
in the saddle, and scarred by more than one brush with the 
thieving Mexicans on the border. In the open hearth the 
fire crackled merrily. Upon the broad window-sill, in the 
alcove where we sat, were crowded the carved initials of 



298 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



a century's denizens of this self-same room — students, ' 
many of whom had gone out into life to leave a much more 
enduring mark upon the pages of the nation's history. 

In the campus without, a howling mob surged and 
crowded and cheered. It was 'Election Night/ that unfor- 
getable presidential election, when — for so many hours — 
the result was in doubt. Would it be Hughes or New 
Jersey's former governor, the 
ex-president of Princeton? 
Around the little telegraph 
office in the town the anxious 
crowd clamored for the re- 
turns, the Princeton boys 
never losing faith in Father 
Woodrow, for they kept up 
an incessant racket, — sing- 
ing, yelling a n d prancing 
around like Bedlam let loose. 
We, too, joined the riotous 
mob around the Western 
Union office, but finding it 
in the process of being liter- 
ally pushed off its founda- 
tions, once again adjourned 
to the storied den. Here, 
looking down upon the throng of slim and handsome figures 
cavorting about the campus, my companion regaled me 
with many entertaining stories of Mr. Wilson, who — as 
head of the university — had lent the helping hand to hun- 
dreds of discouraged students, and to whom unstinted 
credit is due for countless acts of kindness which will never 
be known. 

Is there to be found, in all the annals of America, a 
more singular biography than that of Woodrow Wilson? 
In 1908, a comparatively unknown school-master; in 1918 
a world-arbiter! Be it remembered, however, that for 




WOODROW WILSON 
The "Official Photograph" of 1908, when, 
as President of Princeton University, 
he was unknown outside the cir- 
cles of education and literature 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 299 

years and years he had been a keen student and interpreter 
of history, as if some unseen hand was directing his Unes 
of thought in preparation for the time when he himself was 
to make history. As to the wisdom of the course he has 
pursued, posterity must be the judge. We, being con- 
temporary witnesses or participants, 'profiteers' or sufferers, 
are scarcely in a position to render either indictment or 
eulogium. 

While it would be highly improper to attempt com- 
parisons, we may safely affirm that there are some inter- 
esting and striking parallels in the public life of Washing- 
ton — who, in the years of his presidency, so strongly 
advised against "entangling alliances" — and in the execu- 
tive experiences of the distinguished exponent of the 
"League of Nations," — principles which appear so greatly 
at variance. To-day Washington is regarded not merely 
as the father of America, but is honored, the world over, 
as the greatest path-finder in the realization of national 
liberty. If future generations are to remember Woodrow 
Wilson, it will not be because "he kept us out of war" or 
plunged us into it ; his renown will rest upon the success or 
failure of his great ideal — the international experiment of 
nations banded together to avert war. 

With absolute truth it may be said that Princeton 
offered for both W^ashington the soldier, and Wilson the 
thinker, a great opportunity, — a stepping-stone to honor. 
Each of them made the most of it. 

It might be well for us to accompany Washington 
through Somerset County and see him safely established at 
Morristown before bringing the chapter to a close. 

The 'Somerset hills' are noted for their gentle beauty, 
yet the population of the region is quite meagre. Of late 
years, however, there has been developed an increasing 
number of beautiful private estates hereabout. Many a 
densly wooded hilltop is now adorned by the palatial coun- 
try seat of some wealthy citizen of the Metropolis, but for 



300 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



the most part the little villages remain as of yore, and, 
where not immediately upon the railway lines, the number 
of their inhabitants does not exceed that of the Revolu- 
tionary period. 

A good road leads up towards Morristown, flanked on 
the east by the undulating meadow land of the upper Pas- 
saic Valley, and varied with many a pretty copse and dingle. 
That it is an old thoroughfare is attested by the ancient 
houses by the roadside, upon whose 'rural free delivery' 
boxes we see the names of practically every old family 
associated with the days of original settlement. Each lone- 
ly farmhouse, 
it would seem, 
harbors two or 
three energetic 
dogs, which 
are so burden- 
e d w i t h a 
sense of re- 
s p n s i bility 
that they be- 
gin a protract- 
ed concert of 
barking while 
the traveler is 
"yet a great way off" 
and continue to vociferate with ire and vehemence until he 
is lost beyond all sense of sight, smell or hearing. 

Two miles below the Morris County boundary, where 
we cross the Passaic (here a narrow and youthful stream- 
let), we pass through the main street of Bernardsville. Be- 
fore the Public Library, — an old time dwelling now con- 
verted to this most worthy of uses, — a cement marker, close 
to the curb, confirms the story that, by this route, Washing- 
ton journeyed to Morristown after the victorious Prince- 
ton campaign in the early days of the new year 1777. The 




THE "PUBLIC LIBRARY" 

of Bernardsville, N. J., with commemorative marker. 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 301 

house itself witnessed the passing. It is of wood, and has 
iniquestionably been altered somewhat in appearance, but 
there is no reason for doubting its age. The exposed outer 
stone work of the chimney at the right would be sufficient 
evidence, in itself, to place the cottage in the 'eighteenth 
century' class. 

But it is at Basking Ridge, a mile distant, that there 
exists one of the most noteworthy landmarks in New Jer- 
sey. It is a gigantic oak tree, estimated to be about four 
hundred years old, with a rugged trunk almost twenty-four 
feet in circumference and spreading branches measuring 
130 feet from tip to tip. No mere description will suffice 
in this case, the tree must be seen, amid its beautiful sur- 
roundings, to be fully appreciated. As a sort of preamble, I 
may say that Basking Ridge has a three-fold claim to our 
interest. First of all, it was in this region that William 
Alexander, "Lord Stining," had his mansion; again, it was 
in the tavern of a Mrs. White, located at the farther end 
of the village, that the crabbed and disobedient Gen. Charles 
Lee was surprised and taken prisoner by the British in 
1776, as narrated elsewhere; his troops meantime being 
encamped at "Vealtown," — (the old name for Bernards- 
ville). These two memorable facts, with the presence of 
the still-existing tree, — beneath which, we are told, 
(though by what authority I know not) that Washington 
sat one day at dinner, — make Basking Ridge the ob- 
jective point of a delightful outing. As to the name, "Bask- 
ing Ridge," my companion of the day naively suggested 
that on the prominent ridge above the town the erstwhile 
denizens of the forest, — deer, foxes, catamounts and the 
like, — used to come to bask in the sunshine before the 
advent of the white intruders. 

Now, as to the tree. It adorns the 'kirkyard' of the 
village sanctuary, which, incidentally, is the prettiest coun- 
try house of worship I have ever seen, constructed of clean- 
looking red brick, and white wood-work freshly painted, 



302 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



adorned with a neat spire, and boasting of a modern addi- 
tion housing the Sabbath School. The church dates from 
1824, superseding the Revolutionary building. In the ad- 
jacent graveyard, — deep rooted among brown-stone slabs 
adorned with winged cherubs, serio-comic epitaphs and 

dates running 
away back in- 
to the 'seven- 
teens,' — 
stands the un- 
gainly arboreal 
giant. Its 
wide - spread - 
ing branches, 
extending far 
out beyond 
the rubble wan, 
have been rev- 




— THE AGED OAK AT BASKING RIDGE — 

erently propped up by the villagers with sturdy beams, lest 
they fall beneath the weight of years. 

This old tree must have attained ordinary growth 
when the settlers were starving at Jamestown; and at the 
time when Washington enjoyed its friendly shade it surely 
had assumed unusual proportions; yet it still lives on, and 
will, perhaps, be found green and flourishing when we, too, 
shall have run our brief course and passed out into the 
sunlight, — for it shows as yet no indication of senility. 
When the 'old Elm' at Cambridge — now badly shattered- — 
shall be no more, this monarch of the forest may justly suc- 
ceed to first p'ace in the hearts of those who love Nature 



TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



303 



and revere the memory of our forefathers. 

On the 6th of January, the weary ana foot-sore soldiers 
of Washington completed the final stages of then march to 
Morrislown. Here the army remained until the end cf 
May, emerging (after five months' rest, repair and additions 
thereto) 7,000 strong. During this interval of recuperation, 
Washington put up at what is sometimes spoken of as 
"IVeeman's Tavern." but which was, in reality, the hostelry 
maintained by Major Jacob Arnold, of the Morris County 
Light Horse. This building, now transformed info the All 
Soul's Hospital, and removed a mile distant from its origin- 
al location, is still standing, but has been so altered that ic 
bears little resemblance to its old-time self, of which a 
The 'ARNOLD TAVERN,' Morristown, picture, reproduccd froui an old 
—as it was in 1777— prlut, Is here appended. 

It was, however, during 
the winter of 1779-80, 
that Washington re- 
mained longest at 
Morristown, when he 
occupied the resi- 
'^^^:5::>s,^ dence of the re- 
cently deceased 
Col. Jacob Ford, 
who had c o m- 
manded the First 
Regiment of the 
M orris County 
Militia during the 




A frame structure, until 1886 an undisturbed landmark. 



retreat of '76. 



To the reader of Revolutionary history, to whom the 
events of Trenton and Princeton have served to mark but 
the beginning of Washington's greatest services in his coun- 
try's cause, it may be surprising to reflect that — with the 
settling down into winter quarters at Morristown in Janu- 
ary of 1777, — the great commander had rounded out al- 






304 TRENTON AND PRINCETON 



most exactly two-thirds of the years of his life. 

Ponder upon this fact, — as, perhaps, did Washington 
himself while snow-bound in the Jersey hills, — and be of 
good courage, if you, too, have passed beyond the meridian. 
For it remained for Washington, as for so many other 
worthy men and famous, to make the so-called ''latter 
years" the period of greatest accomplishment and service. 
With faculties unimpaired by excesses, with wits sharpened 
by experience, with heart strengthened by an an unshaken 
trust in an over-ruling Providence; he was destined to reap 
the rewards of ''faith and works." 

So let us all endeavor to shape our lives, remembering 
that when individual achievement and service to mankind 
are so successfully blended as in the career of Washington, 
a man to God's own liking is the result! 



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